■'^;;iE*,.->'Jv^ ■ 




I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. % 






ILXITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



V 



|l||iipiW|lAp*iULIi^,.. 



CHRISTIANITY 



STATESMANSHIP; 



KINDRED TOPICS. 



WILLIAM HAGUE, D.D. 




NEW YORK: 
EDWAKD H. FLETCHER, 

117 NASSAU STREET. 

1855. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 

EDWAKD H. FLETCHER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
District of New York. 



CONTENTS 



Page 



rAOE. 

L— CHRISTIANITY AND STATESMANSHIP, - 1 

n.— THE HARVEST OF TRADITIONISM, - 45 

IIL— A STATE CHURCH, - - - . 50 

IV.— DUTY TO BE GOVERNMENT, - 54 

V.-^LAVERY, - - - . .68 
VL— MAHOMMEDAN AND CHRISTIAN POWERS, 61 

VIL— COMMERCE AND SLAVERY, - . 64 

Vm— GOD AND THE CONSTITUTION, . 68 
IX.— CHRISTIANITY AND THE TURKISH POWER, 73 

X— THE PRINCIPALITIES, - . , m 

XL— ORIGIN OF THE HUNGARIANS, - - ng 

Xn.— MAHOMMED'S BRIGANTINES, ' - -120 

XIIL— CHRISTIANITY AND TRADITIONISM, - 123 

XIV.— RIGHT OF PRIVATE JUDGMENT, - . 159 

XV.— GIBBON'S GREAT MISTAKE, . . 153 

XVL— BEAUSOBRE ON THE FATHERS, . 166 ' 



IV CONTENTS. 

^^ XVIL— THE BIBLE ALONE, - - - 169 
XYni.— CONVERSIONS TO flOME, - - - 114 
XIX.— THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT, - - 178 
XX.— CHRISTIAN GREATNESS IN THE APOSTLE, 183 
XXL— CHRISTIAN GREATNESS IN THE MISSION- 
ARY, - - - - - 201 
XXIL— CHRISTIAN GREATNESS IN THE STATES- 
MAN, - - - - - 263 
XXIIL— CHRISTIAN GREATNESS IN THE CITIZEN, 277 
XXIV.— CHRISTIANITY ANT) PAUPERISM, - - 307 
XXV.— CHRISTIANITY AND LIBERAL GIVING, 333 
XXVL— CHRISTIAN UNION, - - - - 351 
XXVIL— CHRISTIANITY AND SLAVERY. - - 373 



CHRISTIANITY AND STATESMANSHIP. 



PSALM II. 



1. Why do the heathen rajg:e, aud the 
people imagine a vain thing ? 

2. The kings of the earth set them- 
selves, and the rulers take counsel to- 
gether, against the Lord, and against 
his anointed, saying, 

3. Let us break their bands asunder, 
and cast away their cords from us. 

4 He that sitteth in the heavens 
shall laugh; the Lord shall have them 
in derision. 

5. Then shall he speak unto them in 
his wrath, and vex them in his sore dis- 
pleasure. 

6. Yet have I set my King upon my 
holy hill of Zion. 

7. I will declare the decree : (he Lord 
hath said unto me, Thou art my Sou ; 
this day have I begotten thee. 



8. Ask of me, aud I shall give thee 
Ihe heathen for thine inheritance, and 
the uttermost parts of the earth for thy 
possession. 

9. Thou Shalt break them with a rod 
of iron ; thou shalt dash them in pieces 
like a potters vessel. 

10. Be wise now therefore, O ye 
kings : be instructed, ye judges of the 
earth. 

11. Serve the Lord with fear, and re- 
joice with trembling. 

12. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, 
and ye perish from the way when hia 
wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed 
are all they that put their trust in 
him. 



This spirit-Btirring Psalm is a grand old mission- 
ury chant, and belongs to that class of Psalms that 
are denominated Messanic^ on account of its cele- 
brating the advent, the character, and the destina- 
tion of the Messiah. It speaks of him expressly ; 



8 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

and this fact would impress more strongly every 
ear accustomed to the English tongue, if the word 
anointed had given place -to the word Messiah as a 
proper name ; for the Hebrew term Messiah, the 
Greek term Christ, and the English term '^ anoint- 
ed,-' have the same signification. The sacred oil 
of consecration which was poured on the head of 
Prophet, Priest, and King gave rise to the use of 
the word as a proper name when applied to that 
expected Deliverer who was to unite all these 
characters in himself. This Psalm, with several 
others, forms a part of that body of prophecy 
which from age to age threw gleams of light 
athwart the moral gloom that enshrouded the 
earth, and nourished the hope of Israel that a 
brighter day would dawn at the appointed time. 
Who can tell how often it was read in the closet 
and in the family, how often it was chanted in the 
temple or the synagogue, and what earnest long- 
ings it awakened in many a heart to see that day 
'' which kings and prophets waited for," and 
which, at last, was hailed amid the songs of angels 
by the humble shepherds of Bethlehem ! It was 
often quoted by the Apostles, it was interpreted to 
them by the scenes which their times unfolded, 
and it strengthened their faith as they saw that 
the opposition which they encountered for their 
Master's sake had been so clearly foretold. How 
touchingly did they introduce it into their devotions 
amid the stormy trials which Luke has described 
in the fourth chapter of the Acts ! The prophetic 
view of the Psalm reaches onward far beyond our 



Ohrtstianity and Statesmanship. 9 

times to the ultimate triumph of Christianity ; and 
if understood and felt by us, it will animate our 
zeal, and will enable us to discern on the front of 
the darkest cloud some trace of the bow of promise, 
to see it now and then spanning a threatening sky 
with its arch of beauty, and shining forth as the 
sign of the covenant which God has established 
with his Son that this revolted world shall be made 
his own spiritual empire. 

It may aid our conceptions of the spirit and 
power of this Psalm, to consider its structure as 
designed of old to be chanted in the temple- 
worship. We may notice the adaptation of the 
different parts to the end in view as we read the 
whole in accordance with the version of Dr. J. 
Pye Smith, which has the advantage of preserving 
much of that regularity of rythm which belongs 
to Hebrew poetry. 

The second Psalm was a responsive song, in- 
tended to be sung by different choruses. The first 
chorus chanted the first two verses. 

Why rage the Heathen — and the peoples continue vanity ? 

The kings of earth have set up themselves. 
And the princes are firmly leagued together 
Against Jehovah and against his Messiah. 

The third verse was sung by another chorus, rep- 
resenting the rebellious governments. 

Let us burst their bands asunder 
And cast their cords away from us. 

The fourth and fifth verses were sung by another 
or third chorus. 



10 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

Sitting in the heavens he will laugh ; 
The Lord will have them in derision ; 
Then will he rebuke them in his wrath, 
And in his sore displeasure he will vex them. 

The sixth verse was sung by one speaking in the 
name of God. 

But I have anointed my king 

Upon Zion, the mountain of my sanctuary. 

The seventh, eighth^ and ninth verses were sung 
by one in the name of the Messiah. 

I will declare the decree : Jehovah hath said unto me, 

My Son art thou ; I this day have begotten thee. 

Ask from me and I will give the nations thine inheritance, 

And the uttermost parts of the earth thy possession. 

Thou shalt break them with an iron scepter ; 

As the vessels of a potter shalt thou dash them. 

The tenth, eleventh, and twelth verses were sung 
by the choruses combined. 

Now, therefore, ye kings, be wise ; 
Be instructed, ye judges of the earth ; 
Serve Jehovah with reverence 
And rejoice with trembling. 
Do homage to the Son lest he be angry, 
And ye perish by the way ; 
When his wrath is but a little kindled. 
Blessed are all who trust in Him. 

What profound emotions must have been aroused 
by such a service as this in the breasts of those 
Hebrew assemblies which were anciently gathered 
upon the Mount of Zion within the walls of the 
temple ! What glowing hopes blended with solemn 
awe touching the contested fortunes of their 
Messiah's reign ! With these mingled feelings, 
what cause have we even now to sympathize! 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 11 

Let us open our eyes to the lights and shadows of 
these scenes, which even the old seers under the 
guidance of divine inspiration descried but dimly 
in the distance, which are yet dramatically unfold- 
ing themselves, while each successive act discloses 
its relation to a far-reaching plan and a grand ulti- 
mate issue. Two ideas stand out in bold relief 
upon this page of lyrical prophecy. To these let 
us turn our attention. They are — 

I. The chakacter of the opposition organized 

AGAINST THE KINGDOM OF THE MeSSIAH. 

II. The CERTAINTY OF ITS FINAL DEFEAT. 

It is very remarkable that while the ancient 
Jewish prophets described the expected " Desire 
of Nations," who was to appear in the " fullness of 
time," in the most enchanting aspect, they speak 
of him also as being destined to meet the most 
wily, 'complicated, and deadly opposition. Al- 
though they delighted to employ the fine graphical 
powers with which they were gifted in picturing 
him to view as the Prince of Peace, meek, lowly, 
" altogether lovely," as the messenger of truth into 
whose lips peace was breathed from the fullness of 
the divine nature, as aiming only at spiritual 
victories and conquering the world by light and 
love, yet they declare that he shall, be despised 
and rejected of men, the dread of kings, the butt 
of malice ; and they prepare the mind of the reader 
to expect that his followers would be .hated among 
all nations for his name's sake. 

Thus we know it was from the beginning. The 
extraordinary star which shone over Judea led the 



12 Chkistianity and Statesmanship. 

Persian Magi to the land of promise, and as they 
traversed the metropolis inquiring for the young 
child whose birth the star had signalized, this 
*' sign from heaven/' instead of arousing Herod to 
seek a Saviour for himself, only quickened into 
life the fear of an infant rival v^hom he sought to 
destroy. Thirty-three years after that event we 
see another Herod who had declared himself a foe 
to Pilate, suddenly changing his position and be- 
coming the friend of the Roman governor by 
means of a common co-operation with the Jewish 
Sanhedrim in bringing Jesus to the cross. 

Why is this ? exclaims the inspired Psalmist, as 
with prophetic ken he looks through the vista of 
the future — why do the Heathen rage against the 
celestial messenger ? Why are the people's leaders 
leagued to baffle the plans of their Deliverer? 
Why do the rulers wage war against Him who 
comes to preach peace and to dispose the hearts 
of men to order and justice? No reason is here 
assigned. If all the reigning dynasties were sum- 
moned to answer at the bar of Him who is judge 
of all the earth, how could they plead with Hini or 
justify themselves! The case admits of no ade- 
quate explanation except that which is found in 
the rebellious spirit of that "carnal mind which is 
enmity against God, and not subject to his law." 
Selfishness, in the form of ambition, the pride of 
place, or lust of power, dreads being disturbed in 
its long enjoyed possessions. It scorns tlie rule 
of righteousness. It turns away with disgust from 
that humane religion of the Messiah whicli asserts 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 13 

for the poor, the weak, and the down-trodden the 
inalienable rights of humanity. It seeks to sub- 
jugate man and nature, God and heaven, to itself. 
It recognizes the religious sentiment in the human 
soul only to make that element of power subservi- 
ent to its schemes of complete supremacy. It is 
the life and soul, the inspiring genius of nearly all 
of the political governments of the world, which 
have ever assumed the right to break the bands of 
divine legislation at their pleasure and to ally 
themselves to systems of religion which allow their 
thrones of iniquity to claim fellowship with the 
Almighty. 

Now, keeping in view the lofty expectations 
touching the dignity and power of the Messiah 
cherished from age to age by the Jewish people, 
is it not a very remarkable, yea, a wonderful thing, 
that this Psalm, which was sung for centuries in 
their public worship, so clearly proclaimed in 
grand and solemn verse the terrible truth, that the 
Statesmanship of the world would set itself in array 
against that divinely anointed King in whom their 
hopes were centered; that it should not merely 
anticipate the truth that the governments of the 
earth would be firmly leagued together against the 
benign aims of Christ's kingdom, but that it 
should expatiate on this one fact as if it had been 
seen to involve the chief historical feature of the 
Christian .era. This prediction is so directly op- 
posed to aught that human reason would have sug- 
gested touching the fortunes of a kingdom to be 
established on earth by the power of God, and yet 



14 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

it has been so fully verified by the whole course of 
events, that we can not but discern in it the breath- 
ings of a divine inspiration. If we retrace the 
history of Christianity for more than eighteen 
centuries, how strangely do its successive scenes 
fulfill this prophecy which had been sounded out 
with all the majesty of liturgic service for a thou- 
sand years before the advent of Him whose triumph 
it celebrates ! Surely in this profound accordance 
of prophecy and history there is much that is 
worthy of attention. It will justify, undoubtedly, 
a more ample investigation than that which the 
limits of these pages allow us to attempt. 

It will be remembered that the prophecies which 
set forth our Lord's public character exhibited 
chiefly those mild and winning qualities which are 
always suggested to the mind by his distinguishing 
title, "The Prince of Peace." It was said of Him 
by the prince of prophets : " He hath done no vio- 
lence;" ''He shall not strive nor cry, nor cause his 
voice to be heard in the streets." He was to be 
anointed to preach the gospel to the poor. He 
would not "break the bruised reed;" the smoking 
wick he would not extinguish, but would fan the 
dying spark into flame, and bring forth truth unto 
victory. He was to be distinguished by meekness 
and gentleness as a minister of grace unto men. 

This ideal character he fully realized. The 
grandeur of his miracles was subordinated to the 
spiritual aims of the gospel which he preached. 
That gospel was hailed with a popular welcome ; 
vast multitudes followed him, not only in the city. 



Christianitt and Statesmanship. 15 

but throughout the country ; crowds hung with 
rapture on his lips; ''the common people heard 
him gladly." Where, then, arose the deadly op- 
position that he encountered ? It was not from the 
masses of the People, but from the Government, 
administered by the Sanhedrim, the princes and 
priests of Judea. They, having subordinated the 
institutions of religion to their secular ends, and 
made these the measure of truth, looked with ma- 
lignant wrath upon the signs of that success with 
which the Messiah gained the ear of the nation ; 
they trembled at the responses which the public 
heart gave back to his teachings, and the immedi- 
ate aim of all their schemes was to cope with the 
power of his popularity. How often would they 
have laid hands on him but that " they feared the 
people." It was this terror that long held the gov- 
ernment in check, and it was overcome at last 
only by the aid of the traitor who delivered up 
his Master amid the darkness of the night in the 
silent recesses of Gethseraane. 

The inspired Apostles followed in that Master's 
steps ; they preached the same gospel ; the popular 
masses hailed it with a welcome ; but the organized 
government, mad upon the idolatry of power, dread- 
ing change, believing in nothing but what would 
subserve their low aims, tracked the disciples whith- 
ersoever they went, like beasts of prey thirsting for 
blood. It was easy for these preachers to gain au- 
dience with the people until the government of the 
people cried them down as rebels and revolutionists, 
making impious war upon the established religion. 



16 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

This remark applies to the Roman Empire gener- 
ally, which took within its scope nearly all of the 
civilized world. It is worthy of notice that Chris- 
tianity gained wider conquests under the reign of 
the bad emperors than it did under the reign of 
those who were comparatively good ; for the former 
were so much engrossed with their vicious pleas- 
ures, that they were not inclined to interfere with 
religious liberty ; while the latter, devoted to a 
staid conservatism, intent 6n preserving their polit- 
ical power, w^atching against whatsoever might be 
productive of any moral change, and jealous of the 
rising' Church, which did not, as a matter of course, 
acknowledge the civil ruler as its head, became 
themselves the projectors and agents of the most 
relentless persecution. The tyranny of Caligula, 
for instance, which was at once the scourge of the 
empire and the 'disgrace of paganism, left larger 
scope for the spread of the* gospel than did the more 
statesman-like government of the watchful Anto- 
nines. But when the emperor and court of Rome 
became nominally Christianized, the case seemed 
to have been reversed ; but that change was more 
an appearance than a reality. As might have been 
expected, the Christianity that was established by 
law was not the simple, spiritual Christianity of the 
New Testament, but a cold, formal, worldly, polit- 
ical religion which was not worth the blood of mar- 
tyrdom to propagate ; and it was not very widely 
propagated in the long run. It had in it no true 
missionary spirit. From the days of Constantine 
to the era of modern missions, Christianity gained 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 17 

scarcely a single new realm beyond the bounds of 
Constantine's dominions ; there her career was 
checked. He attempted to spread Christianity in 
Persia ; but his missionaries were regarded by Sa- 
por, the Persian king, as political spies, and there- 
fore were put to death by royal decree. Throughout 
the vast extent of India, China, Africa, and the isles 
of the sea, the gloom of heathenism brooded over 
the millionsj^nd until a very recent period its fatal 
blight has rested upon the dense mass of successive 
generations without a sign of relief. The Christian 
government of Pome, so called, has been employed 
meanwhile in preserving order at home, and in per- 
secuting unto death all those who would not mold 
their religious system into conformity with her can- 
ons, nor worship the images of wood and gold which 
she has set up. Alas ! what untold thousands have 
her courts and inquisitions doomed to die as her- 
etics, because they acknowledged Christ alone as 
King, and his inspired Word alone as the standard 
of their faith. The plaintive wails of the humble 
Madiai, imprisoned by the most liberal government 
of Italy for the crime of reading the Scriptures to 
their neighbors, have not yet died away upon the 
ears of Christendom, and attest more mightily than 
volumes of argument the unwelcome truth, that the 
Pome of ''the dark ages" and the Pome of the 
nineteenth century possess the same stern, relent- 
less, unchanging and unchangeable character. 

Nor does the spirit of these remarks find a verifi- 
cation only in the government of Pome, imperial 
or papal, but, also, in a greater or less degree, in 



18 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

every Protestant government under which Chris- 
tianity has been defined by the State, established 
by law, and defended by the sword. Such a relig- 
ion is very different in all its outward manifestations 
from the religion of the Apostles ; the Church is 
subordinated to the State, to the Priesthood, to Pol- 
itics, Wealth, and Worldliness ; and we see that the 
Messiah does not march before such a Church to 
give it victory; for, as Macaulay has justly ob- 
served, Protestant Christianity has gained scarcely 
an inch of ground in Europe as yet for more than 
three hundred years since the death of Luther.^ 
Even the Protestant government of England, with 
her constitutional jnonarch at the head of the 
Church, has, in conformity with the maxims of 
pagan polic}^, maintained Popery in Canada and 
Idolatry in India, while from that latter heathen 
country she expelled her own Christian subjects, 
when Carey and his associates first entered there 
upon the work of missions, lest they should disturb 
the quiet of her Eastern Empire.f By a singular 
combination of events, it turned out that the Danish 
government was pleased to protect them at her 
little settlement of Serampore; and yet that same 
government has, since then, imprisoned, in Den- 
mark itself, ministers of the gospel who, in faith 
and in spirit, are the brethren of those very mis- 
sionaries. In regard to the policy of both those 
great states, we have reason to rejoice that a brighter 



* See Appendix, A, p. 46. 
t See Appendix j B. p. 50. 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 19 

day has already dawned. Nevertheless, even at 
this hour, throughout the most of European Chris- 
tendom, the kings are '' setting themselves up," and 
the rulers are taking counsel against the supremacy 
of the Messiah, and acting in sleepless concert to 
baffle every plan for the evangelization of the people. 
The companies of humble exiles daily passing by 
our doors to seek a home in Wisconsin, Minnesota, 
and the neighboring States — the groups of men and 
women banished from their native lands for the 
crime of being baptized on a profession of their 
faith, and of being united to churches unconnected 
with a state-establishment — bear mournful testi- 
mony that the storm of transatlantic persecution for 
conscience' sake has been but little softened by the 
spirit of the age, that it is sweeping along its path 
of desolation at the height of its power. 

If, in connection with this subject, we transfer 
our thoughts to this continent, we are struck by the 
similarity of aspect which its history exhibits. 
From the discovery of America by Columbus until 
the dawn of our national birthday, nowhere in this 
hemisphere, with a very narrow territorial excep- 
tion, was there allowed a place of quiet and free- 
dom for those who would own no Lord of conscience 
but Christ, no judge in religion but his Word. As 
it was in this respect, it is now throughout South 
America, where you, my brethren, would be im- 
prisoned or killed for attempting to form yourselves 
into a church according to the command of Christ, 
however peaceably you might order your lives in 
civil things. It is there, under the supremacy of 



20 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

Papal rule, as it is in many parts of Protestant 
Europe, the governments will freely license drink- 
ing shops, theaters, brothels, and gambling-houses ; 
but a church and ministry, formed simply to diffuse 
the gospel, would be persecuted unto bonds and 
death. 

The more closely we survey the records of the 
past, from the point of view furnished by the l^ew 
Testament, the more clearly will we see that the 
gloomy landscape which this prophetic Psalm de- 
picts, with all its somber hues, looms up into prom- 
inence, bearing upon its face the characteristic 
features of world-history from the opening of the 
Christian dispensation to the unfolding of those 
scenes which are now passing before our eyes. It 
has often been said, that the reason why the world 
has not yet been evangelized, is to be found in the 
fact that the churches of Christ have '' slept as do 
others," and have forgotten the great commission. 
Whatever degree of truth may be involved in this 
statement, it is, on the whole, but a very partial 
and stinted statement of the truth. There is ample 
ground for the position that the great reason of the 
limitation that has been set to the progress of 
Christianity is to be found in that union of Church 
and State, which is a chief element of the grand 
apostasy. Civil government, ordained of God for 
the protection of men in civil rights, to punish the 
evil-doer, and to enable the well-disposed '' to live 
quiet and peaceable lives in all godliness and 
honesty," has been perverted from its true design 
and employed in closing every avenue against the 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 21 

progress of pure religion. Hence we see the signif- 
icance of that petition which Paul commended so 
earnestly to the churches of his time, when he 
called upon them to pray that " a door of utter- 
ance" might be open to him. Let but the govern- 
ments of the earth be restricted to their proper 
sphere ; let but the principles which two centuries 
ago were embodied in a civil State on the shores 
of the Narragansett become universally prevalent ; 
let but the race at large enjoy its rightful heritage 
of free churches, free schools, and an open Bible, 
and then, as sure as it is that there is moral power 
in truth, that " the residue of the Spirit" is with 
God, that the gospel is his message, that the prom- 
ises of Scripture bear the impress of his veracity, 
just so sure is it that " the kingdom, and the 
power, and the glory, and the greatness of the 
kingdom under the whole heaven" shall be given 
unto Christ for an everlasting heritage, and " unto 
Him shall the gathering of the people be." 

This remark prepares our way for the considera- 
tion of the other great truth which this inspired 
ode so joyously celebrates. For, while the Psalm 
is so gloomily descriptive of the dreadful antagt)nism 
between the kingdom of Christ and the spirit of 
this world's Statesmanship, it takes on, nevertheless, 
a tone of triumph. It reveals a more cheering 
scene. It asserts, 

III. That these opposing counsels and alliances 

SHALL ALL BE ULTIMATELY BAFFLED. It dcclarCS this 

in strong terms : " He that sitteth in the heavens 
shall laugh : the Lord shall have them in derision." 



22 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

This expression contains a bold rhetorical figure 
which is common to all languages, and is employed 
to denote power that is irresistible. Thus a more 
ancient poet says of the leviathan that sporteth in 
the stormy deep : '' He laugheth at the shaking of 
a spear ;" and thus we often say of an impregnable 
bulwark, '' It mocks resistance." When applied 
to any opposing force whatever, whether it be 
physical or moral, it denotes one that is unconquer- 
able. The array of opposition which this world 
presents to the kingdom of the Messiah seems to 
us so mighty and enduring as to mock our feeble 
efforts ; but it is destined to be overcome, and that, 
too, by moral means. We say by moral means ; 
by the spiritual forces which He has originated and 
will effectually wield ; for, in order to this happy 
consummation. He is enthroned " upon Zion, the 
mountain of his sanctuary." This figurative phrase 
designates the position of the Messiah as the Head 
of a spiritual church. " Hence, .in allusion to it, 
Paul says to all true believers : " We have come 
unto Mount Zion ;" that is, we have abjured all 
other supremacies, and have acknowledged the 
rightful dominion of Christ as King of kings. His 
scepter is '' the truth ;" his chosen instrumentality 
for the achievement of his work is his revealed 
Word. By that he will make manifest his character 
and his power. By that He is to be made known 
universally as the Son of God. By that, and not 
by the schemings of state policy, nor by a deluge 
of material fire, as some of the modern Adventists 
suppose, is his divine sovereignty to be displayed. 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 23 

" He shall smite the earth by the rod of his mouth, 
and with the breath of his lips shall he slay the 
wicked." In accordance with this idea, He said to 
Pilate, " I am a King ; to this end was I born, and 
for this cause came I into the world, that I should 
bear witness unto the truth : every one that is of 
the truth heareth my voice." His resurrection from 
the dead is spoken of in the Psalm before us as the 
era of his reign ; a fact which Paul fully declared 
in his discourse delivered in the synagogue of 
Antioch, in Pisidia, as recorded in the thirteenth 
chapter of the Acts. The term " begotten," in the 
sixth verse of the Psalm, is used like other Hebrew 
words in the same form in a decla/rative sense ; and 
the import of the whole phrase is, '^ This day, I 
declare that I have begotten thee." This comment 
is illustrated by the words of Paul in the opening 
paragraph of the Epistle to the Romans : " He was 
declared to be the Son of God with power by his 
resurrection from the dead." '' With great power," 
it is said, did the Christian churches once bear wit- 
ness to this truth ; and it is their great work to do 
so still, until this gospel shall be universally victo- 
rious. Man was led away from God by a lie of 
Satan ; he is to be restored by " the truth as it is 
in Jesus ;" ruined by that word of the Tempter, he 
must be rescued by the word of the Lord ; lost by 
unbelief, he must be saved by faith. When quick- 
ened by the Spirit he awakes from the long sleep 
of moral death, is " translated into the kingdom of 
God's dear Son," and hails Him as the Sovereign of 
the soul and the rightful Sovereign of the universe. 



24 Christianity and Statesmanship. 



But here the inquiry meets us, How does this 
view of the mild and gentle, the exclusively spiritual 
character of our Lord's sovereignty accord with the 
stern martial air of this Psalm, which breaks upon 
the ear like that which reverberated over the battle- 
fields o£ republican France in the tones of the old 
Marseilles Hymn? This stirring strain of warlike 
sound, so full of menace, so prophetic of destruc- 
tion, startling the imagination with scenes of fall- 
ing dynasties and the wreck of empires, what means 
it ? The opposing powers are seen mustering their 
forces : '' He shall rebuke them in his wrath. He 
shall laugh at them. He shall have them in de- 
rision. He shall smite them with a scepter of 
iron. He shall dash them in pieces like a potter's 
vessel." Is all this descriptive of the Prince of 
Peace and of the progress of a moral kingdom ? 
Undoubtedly. These spirited stanzas express a 
great idea which history is constantly realizing. 
They portray the firm, unrelaxed, and iron-like ad- 
herence of the divine government to the principles 
just now announced touching the supremacy of 
Christ's revealed Word. Men and nations must pay 
homage to its authority, imbibe its spirit and prac- 
tice its precepts, or suffer the terrible destruction 
consequent on the rejection of it. Its principles 
must be received, its laws must be obeyed, the in- 
alienable rights with which it invests every human 
conscience must be respected, the limitations which 
it sets to the responsibility of governments and in- 
dividuals must be realized in the organization called 
a State, or else the State itself will nourish in her 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 25 

bosom the fires that are destined to consume her. 
If at this day the venerable founder of Rhode 
Island were to be raised from the dead and commis- 
sioned to go on the errand of a new apostleship to 
every government on the face of the earth ; if he 
were bidden to take a New Testament in his hand 
and to say to those who bear rule, " If ye will 
honor this book as the law of laws ; if ye will respect 
that soul-liberty which it proclaims as the gift of 
God to every human being ; if ye will confine the 
administration of your government to civil things, 
and maintain the ordinances of justice between man 
and man, ye shall surely prosper, but otherwise ye 
shall surely perish," he w^ould only have announced 
a short, simple, and Christian theory of government ; 
his mission would probably be rejected with scorn 
by the great majority, but the menace which his 
lips would have uttered, God's providence shall 
certainly verify.*^ 

In order to be fully impressed with the force and 
bearing of this prophetic announcement, behold 
what a heaving sea of national convulsion and des- 
olating waste the history of Christendom has ex- 
liibited ever since the Christian dispensation was 
ushered in ! Does not the oracle here describe it 
truthfully ? Turn your eyes to the first fulfillment. 
When the Jewish nation rejected their Messiah, 
He wept as he beheld the sacred city from the 
height of Olivet, while he exclaimed : " O that thou 
hadst known, even thou, in this thy day, the things 

* See Appendix C, p. 64, 



26 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

that belong to thy peace ; but now are they hid 
from thine eyes !" He uttered the dirge of Jeru- 
salem. Regarding the Jewish Church without the 
spirit of true religion, as a body without life. He 
had already said, " Where the carcass is, there 
will the eagles be gathered together." His predic- 
tion was soon fulfilled. See the Roman eagle, at 
the beck of the Almighty's hand, spread his wings, 
soar aloft, scent his prey, hover over Judea, then 
pounce upon the fated carcass. See the doomed 
nation reeling under the weighty sentence, plucked 
from its place, broken to pieces, while the frag- 
ments now lie scattered over the earth from pole to 
pole. 

This same gospel of the Messiah was carried by 
the Apostles and the first disciples abroad over the 
Roman Empire, within whose mighty grasp the 
elements of civilization and social order seemed to 
be held together. The simple religion which they 
taught would have renovated, sanctified her, and 
saved her in her greatness. It would have extir- 
pated that slave system which was the immediate 
cause of her weakness, which rendered her vast 
framework like a hollow shell, so that it collapsed 
when pressed against by the hordes of northern 
barbarism."^ Rejecting, or rather perverting, the 
simple truths of Christianity, she had within her no 
conservative power, and therefore fell with a grav- 
itating force, like the typical millstone which the 
prophet of Patmos saw a mighty angel casting into 

* See Appendix D, p. 68. 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 27 

the deep, while he said with a loud voice, '' Thus, 
with violence, shall Babylon the great be thrown 
down, and be found no more at all." 

At the close of the first century a series of 
celestial messages were sent forth from that same 
isle of Patmos to the churches of Asia, warning 
them against the sin of departing from the Word 
of Christ, and of molding their doctrines into con- 
formity .with a corrupt public opinion ; at the 
same time pronouncing the doom of utter extirpa- 
tion unless they should repent and return to the 
simplicity of their first faith and their first works, 
They repented not ; they assimilated themselves to 
the worldly communities around them ; and be- 
hold, in due season, the banner of the conquering 
Mohammed is unfurled. His hostile armies sweep 
over all the lands which the feet of the Apostles 
had trodden in the Eastern world, even with the 
besom of destruction, and the nominally Christian 
churches, according to the Word of Christ, were 
cast out like " salt that had lost its savor," and 
therefore " good for nothing, but to be trodden 
imder foot of men." The Christianity of those 
times was not worth preserving, and in regard to 
its influence on the moral health and weal of 
society, the religion of Mohammed, in spite of all its 
errors, was a decided improvement. 

The ages roll on, and we see that Western 
Europe has received a corrupt, licentious, and 
military religion under the name of Christianity, 
aud thus becomes prepared to exhibit practically 
on a broad theater a terrific illustration of the 



28 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

truth of those words of Jesus which sound so much 
in harmony with the spirit of this Psalm: "They 
that take the sword shall perish by the sword." 
The nominal Christianity of those times had no 
power to regain her realm by moral means, and 
attempted to do it by the hand of violence. Popes, 
kings, princes, barons, knights, gentlemen, soldiers, 
monks, hermits, tradesmen, and peasants were all 
aroused to move in massive legions for the rescue 
of Jerusalem from the grasp of the Mohammedan 
infidel, into whose hand God had abandoned it. 
But the voice of Providence sounded out a decree 
like that which fell upon the ear of John from the 
lips of the mighty angel, who, standing with one 
foot upon the sea and the other upon the land, 
lifted his hand toward heaven, and swore by Him 
that sitteth upon the throne, " The time shall not 
be yet." Oh! what pen can adequately depict 
the fearful scenery of those crusades in which 
rank upon rank of the Christian hosts, millions 
upon millions, like living waves of an exhaustless 
deep, poured themselves upon the shores of Asia 
to be dashed to pieces, to perish there, and leave 
only their blanched bones for a memorial ! De- 
spite the thunders of the Vatican, the vows of 
chivalry, the prayers and curses of the priesthood, 
the blended enthusiasm of youth and age, we have 
lived to see the Holy Land still owning the sway 
of a Moslem scepter."^ 

And among those, nations of Western Europe 

* See Appendix E, p. 61. 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 29 

liow have their dynasties, ever since their recon- 
struction from the fragments of the JRoman Empire, 
been dashed and broken one against another ! 
Spain had her " time of visitation ;" the simple, 
spiritual, free Christianity of the New Testament 
was offered to her, but was resisted by her States- 
manship ; the yearnings of her people after Chris- 
tian freedom were repressed ; she became a land 
of inquisitions, of martyrs, of terror, and of blood. 
She nourished the passions which consumed her; 
and she, the land of beauty and fertility, of riches 
and of power, of poetry and of song, is now the 
most abject, the weakest and barest of all king- 
doms, cherishing the mad ambition to recruit her 
physical energies by drinking the blood of Africa. 
France had her time of visitation ; the same mes- 
sage was borne to her, and it was treated with 
malicious mockery by her statesmen. She crushed 
the "Waldenses and Albigenses, who loved and 
preached the truth ; with one fell swoop she con- 
signed the noble Huguenots to a shameful death ; 
and so, for the lack of that balmy, healthful influ- 
ence which was emanating from them, the way 
was prepared for that overwhelming baptism of 
blood which was administered by the hands of a 
rampant infidelity in the storms of her revolution. 
The same religion . of Christ's Word was offered to 
England; she gave it more ample room, as is 
shown by the very existence of her noble body of 
dissenting churches ; and though its field of action 
lias been stinted by a blind 'hierarchical Statesnjan- 
sliip, yet the elements of moral life which it has 



30 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

diffused through the masses have been the great 
conservative power of the English people, have 
saved them from the chaos into which France has 
been plunged, and have been the source of that 
relative greatness which now pertains to English 
nationality. 

In its relation to the kingdom of Christ our own 
country occupies a peculiar position among the 
nations of the world, distinguished as it is for fur- 
nishing larger scope than others for the develop- 
ment of a free Christianity, by means of free 
churches uncontrolled by the craft of Statesman- 
ship. And who of us can not see that our national 
destiny turns on the question, whether American 
Christians shall, or shall not, be faithful to God 
and humanity in using aright this gift of freedom? 
If we, too, should falter in our allegiance to the 
supremacy of Christ's revealed Word ; if we should 
cease to sympathize with the sublime aims of a 
free Christianity ; if we should become corrupted 
by the subtile spirit of skeptical philosophies, or 
that of Popery, or that of conservative tradition- 
ism, or that of worldly politics, which sometimes 
combines all these evils in itself, we also will lose 
our moral coherence, and our unity as a people 
will be severed into fragments, and become as the 
" chaff of the summer's threshing-floor, whiclt the 
wind driveth away."^ In this Word of the Lord 
is our hope ; it is all our salvation. According to 
the manner in which we treat it, will he " magnify 

• See Appendix F, p. 64. 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 31 

it" in our prosperity or our ruin. It can not be 
rejected or perverted by any soul with impunity, 
nor opposed by any nation without its suftering 
condign vengeance. It can not be withheld from 
any class of men without guilt. If it be legally 
denied to the poorest slave, the law which does it 
Avill in due time become a rod in the hand of the 
Messiah to smite and break the States, which in 
their pride of power have said, "Let us break his 
bands asunder, and cast his cords away from us." 
Whatever stern necessities may be deemed by 
the legislators of slave States to be grounded in the 
law of self-preservation, let them see to it that 
every rational, immortal creature within the realm 
of their jurisdiction shall be able to open the eyes 
of his mind to the light of Heaven, and to lift up 
his voice as a voice of song while he takes up the 
joyous strain which came from the lips of a fet- 
tered Apostle, when he exclaimed, "The word of 
God is not bound." 

And what, O friends and brethren, what if that 
last, most fearful issue which a Christian patriot 
can dread should befall us as a nation — what if the 
worst should come, and all our hopes of a glorious 
nationality should perish in the wreck of our con- 
federacy—would the fortunes of Christ's kingdom 
perish with us ? Would the last and only hope of 
humanity be buried in our sepulcher ? JSTo ; 
never. When the star of Judea fell from the firma- 
ment, it seemed to many as if the light of true 
religion had been forever extinguished. But the 
Sun of Righteousness arose over the gloom with 



32 Christianity and Statesmanship. 



healing in his beams. The proudest empires of 
earth must crumble into dust, but the kingdom of 
the Messiali shall have no end. If Christian 
America prove faithless to her high trust, '^ the 
generations to come," nevertheless, will rehearse 
the solernn lesson of her history. They will learn 
more effectually than we shall have done,*what is 
the sure corner-stone of a nation's welfare, and will 
lay to heart the awful commentary which shall 
then have been furnished in another saying of our 
divine Teacher: "Whosoever shall fall on this 
stone shall be broken ; but on whomsoever it shall 
fall it wull grind him to pov/der." 

But of this terrible result there need be no serious 
apprehension. The cheering lights of prophecy 
and all the analogies of history forbid the fear. 
This continent, so wondrously hidden from the eyes 
of Europe till God's own set time had come, has not 
been reserved to become the scene of such a gloomy 
ruin. Brought to light just when the civilization 
of the old world had become effete, had been 
^' weighed in the balances and found wanting," the 
foundations of a Christian Republic were laid on 
these shores amid the prayers and tears of faithful 
men, whose souls were as serene in the threatening 
tempest as in the calm sunshine, simply because 
they believed in God. It is ours to pursue the path 
which they opened, to work out the glorious desti- 
nation which they saw by the eye of faith ; and 
surely we would be the unworthy sons of such 
sires, the unworthy heirs of such an inheritance, if 
we could be scared away from our exalted sphere 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 33 

of action by the front of battle lowering before us, 
or by the muttering thunders that roll around our 
cloud-covered horizon. 

But what are the chief lessons which the theme 
of this great missionary ode suggest to 'us ? Al- 
though we may bestow upon them but a momentary 
glance, let us not fail to give to them a serious con- 
sideration. 

I. It is our duty, as Christian citizens, to acknowl- 
edgjp practically the moral supremacy of Christ in 
the personal relations which we sustain to the civil 
government, as really as in any other relations 
vrhatsoever. " Christ or Csesar?" This is the 
question which addresses itself to our consciences 
in these times as sternly as it was*addressed to the 
consciences of men in the first century of the Chris- 
tian era. 

When Pontius Pilate sat in judgment on the 
unoffending Jesus of Is'azareth, he was conscious of 
a hard struo^o-le between his heart and his con- 
science. He saw that the prisoner was the victim 
of bigotry, and that from w^ounded pi-ide tlie Jewish 
aristocracy sought his death. On the charge of 
sedition brought against Christ, Pilate poured de- 
served contempt. After a full examination of the 
case, he exclaimed, " I find no fault, in him." 
Nevertheless, w^hen the cry was raised, " If thou 
let this man go, thou art not Cesar's friend," the 
ruling passion of the Roman governor was success- 
fully addressed ; ambition swept all before it ; the 
love of honor made him a moral coward ; he cringed 
before the priesthood and their hired mob, whom he 

2^ 



34 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

m — — — — — — — 

alike despised, and abandoned Christ from the fear 
of displeasing Caesar. 

This event was the chief era of Pilate's history, 
and may have been the turning-point of his destiny. 
A similar probation, however, is still allotted unto 
men, and to the hearts of all the hour of temptation 
still brings home the question, Christ or Caesar? 
The Statesman in his elevated sphere of action is still 
obliged to face the alternatives, to hear its voice, 
and to give the answer which shall be for weal or 
woe. The citizen, as he approaches the ballot-lfbx, 
hesitating between the call of duty and the clamor 
of party, when he casts his vote, gives the repl}^ 
which determines his position as a servant of God 
or Mammon, of-Christ or Caesar. The legislator, 
when he lifts his hand as the sign of a final decision 
on some grave measure which involves far-reaching 
moral consequences,^ is forced, no less than was 
Pontius Pilate, to choose whether he will obey the 
truthful oracle within him, or will shrink before the 
terror of that party-cry, '' Thou art not Caesar's 
friend." In th.e history of nations, it is a rare case 
to find Statesmanship on the side of Christ and his 
cause, but it has generally verified the saying attri- 
buted by ancient prophecy to the rulers of the 
earth: '' Let us break his bands asunder, and cast 
away his cords from us." 

In the days of Pilate, the leading power of the 
world whose claims were in conflict with those of 
Christ was the imperial power of Rome. It was 
all-pervading, and touched all relationships in civil 
and religious things. To be a Christian, a man 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 35 

needed a true martyr spirit, wliicli would lead him to 
count not even life dear to himself, so that he might 
be faithful to his Master. In spite of such high 
demands, the new religion conquered, and gained 
mighty hosts of converts from every rank and class 
of men. The Apostle who said, '^ We wrestle with 
principalities, and powers, and spiritual wickedness 
in high places," could add, nevertheless, " ]N^ow 
thanks be to God who always causeth us to tri- 
umph." 

In our own time and land, the leading power 
whose claims come in contact with those of Christ is 
the Slave-Power. Throughout this country its influ- 
ence is pervasive. In its practical workings we see 
three hundred thousand men ruling twenty millions, 
with a despotism 'ks subtile and complete as that of 
the English aristocracy which sways the masses of 
our father-land. Within its own realm it is the foe 
of common schools, of a free press, and aims to keep 
the majority of the whites in a state of ignorance, 
lest they should verify the adage that '' knowledge 
is power." It subordinates the federal government 
to its own purposes, and uses the physical force of 
the free States to hold slaves in subjection. It has 
long done violence to the spirit of the age and the 
moral sentiment of the North by insisting that the 
District of Columbia, the common territory around 
the Capitol, should be a public slave-market. It 
still enlargeth itself; it breaks solemn compacts at 
its pleasure ; it fortifies a terrible system of slavery- 
propagandism within the bulwarks of the Constitu- 
tion, and aspires to rule a continent that shall ulti- 



36 Chkistianity and Statesmanship. 

raately give law to the world.^ In regard to all 
the principles and schemes of such a power, every 
man among us is responsible to God for the ex- 
pression of his opinion, the exercise of his influence, 
the casting of his vote ; and in every case w^here 
action is necessary, every man must meet the alter- 
native involved in the question, " Wilt thou obey 
the law of Christ or of Caesar?" In the moment 
of decisive action, Pontius Pilate officially aban- 
doned Christ, and yielded to what he thought to be 
the demand of Caesar, then called for a bowl of 
water, v/ashed his hands, and disclaimed his guilt ! 
But water could not cleanse him from the moral 
stain that was upon his soul ; and whosoever now 
imitates his style of action by sacrificing right to 
expediency may see the time when he will exclaim, 
" If I wash myself with snow-water, and make my 
hands never so clean, yet shalt Thou plunge me in 
the ditch, and my own clothes shall abhor me." 

Caesar ! who and where is he ? Once the name 
denoted the power which found its impersonation 
in Is'ero or Domitian. These men have died, but 
the rule of Caesar is not dead. The dominant power 
of the world around us, which regards the law and 
the spirit of the world as supreme, is the real anti- 
Christian Caesar, whatever titles it may wear. In 
some places Wealth is the reigning power which 
rules public opinion and gains the homage of 
society. In others. Fashion is enthroned, makes 
genius her prime-minister, and receives the worship 



' See Appendix, G, p. 'q'6. 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 37 

of the multitude. Whatever form the government 
of Csesar may assume, in many things it will come 
into collision with the government of Heaven, so 
that the true Christian has daily need to remember 
the maxim of his Master, " Render unto Caesar the 
things that are Caesar's, and unto God. the things 
that are God's." 

II. It becomes the churches of this land to regard 
with an interest, more concentrated and intense 
than has yet been seen, the evangelization of this 
continent considered in its relation to the ultimate 
triumph of the Messiah's kingdom. We have seen 
that the great outward antagonism to the benign 
aims of Christianity is found in that organization 
of social power which takes the form of political 
government, in the administration of which the few 
rule the manj^, and close every avenue through 
which the light of truth can reach the masses of 
the people. But it is our happy fortune to live in 
a Itod where the ruling power is wielded by the 
people themselves. Here this old antagonism can 
exist but in a comparatively limited, degree ; for, 
although trading politicians, senators, and repre- 
sentatives may betray their trusts, as they have 
sometimes done, the people still hold the remedy 
in their own hands. Here public opinion is a 
power behind all organized forms of government, 
and it can make or break these forms at its pleasure. 
Here, midway between the two great oceans of the 
globe, is a continent exhibiting a spectacle the like 
of w^hich the sun never shone upon before. Here 
Christianity has her chosen way of operation by 



38 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

direct appeal to the individual, and by direct access 
to the millions without '' let or hindrance." Was 
there ever a time or place that opened to the friends 
of truth such a bright career ? Did God ever call 
Avith stronger emphasis to his people than he does 
to every one of us, saying, " Son, go work to-day 
in my vineyard ?" Who does not see that the grand 
business assigned to u§ is that which was of old re- 
garded as the primary business of every disciple 
and every church : the diffusion of a pure Chris- 
tianity among these millions teeming with life, 
hope, and joyous energy? Let but the hills and 
valleys, the fields and prairies, the towns and cities 
of this continent be thickly set with self-governed 
churches, acting in concert to do the great Master's 
work, and then shall we bo a self-governed nation, 
before the outgoings of whose influence the schemes 
of despotism and idolatry that have so long cursed 
the earth shall give way, just as the icy solitudes 
of the north are melted beneath a summer's «un, 
are clad in robes of beauty, and echo the carol of 
birds and the song of the reaper. 

And yet, far be it from us to intimate that the 
enlarged missionary spirit that aims directly at the 
evangelization of the world is to be at all repressed 
in subordination to any narrow economy touching 
what we are wont to call the *' Home-field." Our 
Lord himself has said, " The field is the world," and 
his great commission commends the wants of the 
world at large to the heart of every disciple. The 
expansive love that takes the weal of our whole 
common humanity witliin its scope is the only 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 39 

element of moral power adequate to the emergencies 
that confront ns within our far-reaching borders. 
Let but the comprehensive missionary spirit that 
prays and toils at once for the whole of Heathendom 
be stinted to a narrower sphere, and it would lan- 
guish for the want of genial aliment. God is mag- 
nanimous, and he honors magnanimity. " Attempt 
great things, expect great things," and you wdll 
surely achieve them. Attempt little things, expect 
little things, and you will not get even these ; for, 
"- to him that hath shall more be given, but from 
him that hath not shall be taken away even that 
which he seemeth to have." Let our churches turn 
away their eyes and hearts from the Heathen 
nations, and they wall not have the moral force 
that is needed for the rough work at home ; let 
them encourage the generous impulses of their sons 
and daughters for foreign conquests to the cause of 
Christ, and the re-acting influence of the enterprise 
abroad will inspire the hosts at home with a kin- 
dred spirit, and invest the whole array with a 
power that will mock resistance. 

HL Li relation to the work before us, it becomes 
us to guard against a two-fold error to which we 
may be liable. Let us beware on the one hand of 
being elated by expectations of an easy service and- 
rapid victories ; let us beware on the other hand 
of being discouraged by apparent reverses, by 
''hope long deferred," or by shouts of triumph in 
the camps of the enemy. There are certain popular 
modes of speech in which we may be prone to in- 
dulge, touching the ''age of progress" in which 



40 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

we live — the triumphs of science and art in this 
nineteenth century. These animating words are 
sometimes spoken as if intended to suggest the be- 
lief that the mountains are so fallen and the valleys 
so exalted, that a broad and smooth highway is 
opened, along which the Church may march as on 
a gala-day, to take possession of an Eden as her 
heritage. Is there not danger of an illusion here ? 
These mighty agencies, to be sure, are changing 
the face of nature and the interior relations of 
mankind ; but they can not regenerate the heart, 
they can not sanctify or save. They are, no doubt, 
imparting power to the j^eople, and sapping the 
thrones of despotism. 

But suppose that by the wielding of some 
magical wand we could dissolve the despotisms of 
the earth to-day, without the moral regulation of 
pure Christianity society would blindly rush into 
that state of anarchy from which it would again 
blindly seek relief beneath the wings of imperial 
power. Democracy itself would reel with the in- 
toxication of atheistical philosophies and of a 
worldly spirit, fulfilling the sentence of the proph- 
et: ''They are drunk, but not with wine; they 
stagger, but not with strong drink." The demon 
of rebellious passion in the human heart can not 
be charmed out of it by intellectual culture, nor by 
the richest abundance of physical good that Four- 
ierism can crave. A free distribution of the elements 
of wealth will not make spendthrifts rich, nor will 
the finest physical condition that art can reach 
make a peaceful and happy world. No ; never. 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 41 

The gospel alone, can accomplish this. But let it 
be remembered that the gospel is a remedy that 
the disordered soul does not naturally love, that it 
is ours to press this remedy on hearts that repel it ; 
and to do this in spite of the lying cheats, the 
spells and sorceries, with which many a vaunting 
superstition and many a godless philosophy are 
united to baffle us. Can this be an easy service? 
Shall it be thought strange if the contest be long ; 
if, to the eye of sense, the issue seem often doubt- 
ful, or even if, now and then, the opposing hosts 
shall raise the laugh of scorn, or renew the taunt- 
ing songs of Gath and Askelon ? 

Still, let none be discouraged by temporary de- 
feats ; by portentous signs in the political firma- 
ment. The Saviour has bidden us to anticipate 
them. He predicted moral earthquakes, convul- 
sions, wars, and tumults, but said to his disciples, 
" Be ye not troubled." If any supposed that these 
terrible prophecies related only to the lifetime of 
the Apostles, the revelations of Patmos were suffi- 
cient to undeceive them; for however dark may 
be their interpretation, evidently they take a 
mighty sweep of revolving ages within their scope. 
Even now the Eastern skies are vailed in murky 
gloom, and fearful signs portend those gathering 
storms which shall rock empires to their base ! ' 

Whatsoever turn may be given to the course of 

. events now in process, the attempt of Russia to 

extort from the Sultan of Turkey a concession 

which shall involve an acknowledgment of the 

Czar's assumed position as protector of the Greek 



42 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

churches in the Ottoman Empire, indicates a pro- 
found and deliberate policy on the part of the 
strongest despotism in Europe to bring the relig- 
ious sentiment of mankind, as far as it may be pos- 
sible, into complete and perpetual subjection to 
the imperial will. It denotes the sleepless vigil- 
ance and the far-reaching forethought with which 
the accursed union of Church and State is guarded, 
and with which the slightest tendencies toward 
religions liberty are resisted. For it is not be- 
cause the rights of Greek Christians in Turkey are 
invaded, that the Autocrat of the North has become 
alarmed, but it is because the liberal government 
of the Sultan is fast opening the way for the growth 
of a spirit of independence among the people, and 
that with that spirit of freedom, a natural senti- 
ment of aversion to Russian despotism is spreading 
among the Greeks themselves. These feel them- 
selves to be '' the rising nation of the East." The 
enterprise of their publishers is extraordinary ; the 
popular literature of Europe is circulated by the 
Greek press, and two-thirds of the students in the 
University of Athens are subjects of the Sultan, 
professing the Greek religion. Who can estimate 
the enlightening and liberalizing influences which 
flow from these sources throughout the whole ex- 
teiit of Turkish dominion? And who does not see 
how mightily these influences must tend to weaken 
those bonds of sympathy between the Greek Chris- 
tians of Turkey and the Greek Church of Russia, 
which the court of St. Petersburg so greatly de- 
sires to strengthen? Unless these influences can 



Christianity and Statesmanship. 43 

be arrested, Russia well knows that her cherished 
hopes of obtaining a firm grasp of the Ottoman 
Empire, by the agency of the Greek Christians 
within its borders, must be ultimately blasted. 
Yexed and exasperated because he has not been able 
to establish an efficient espionage against the spread 
of liberal ideas in Turkey, the Czar has at last 
resolved to risk every thing for one mighty effort in 
behalf of religious consolidation. Hence it is that 
he has put forth his claim to the political pro- 
tectorate of the Greek religion. Hence it is that 
Prince Menschikoff has spoken of the '' Catholico- 
Greco-Eussian worship of the Eastern Church," 
and thus has employed a phrase which the Greek 
Patriarch of Constantinople resented on account 
of its breathing a spirit of usurpation. These 
schemings of Muscovite diplomacy, be assured, are 
'* no child's play," nor the mere amusement for the 
leisure hours of princes ; but they are parts of a 
profound plan that is worthy of the grandeur of 
imperial genius. May Heaven interpose, as of old, 
to baffle the counsels of the mighty, so that the 
chariot-wheels of their policy shall drag heavily, 
and the wise be caught in their own craftiness. 

A little while before our Lord left the earth in 
a visible form, He told his disciples that the Psalms 
spake of Him. Here is brought to view this first 
Messianic Psalm, and we perceive that its sound is 
like that of a heavenly oracle answering the cry of 
a perplexed inquirer, who asks with faltering lips, 
from amid scenes of gloom, '' Watchman, what of 
the night ?" It tells of a long, dreary, stormy night 



44 Christianity and Statesmanship. 

of arduous contest. But, then, it hails the sign of 
promise. It descries the gleam of morning; it re- 
joices in the effulgence of a glorious day ; it ends 
with a song of triumph. It directs the downcast 
eye of a desponding soul to the supremacy of 
Christ as the rock of its rest. " Blessed are all 
they that trust in Him." Let this sentiment dwell 
deeply in our hearts and throw out its cheerful 
sunlight around us. Fear not the portents of a 
threatening sky, for He liveth, and is " Head over 
all things to the Church." Where he bids us go,- 
let ns go ; what he bids us do, let us do it. Let 
our whole life-work be as an anthem of faith, taking 
its key-note from this song of salvation. Ye shall 
not labor in vain. " For, if ye be Christ's, the 
day shall be yours ;" yea, " all things are yours," 
because He is the heir of the universe, and " ye 
are joint-heirs with Him." 



APPENDIX. 



Note A. Page 18. 
THE HARVEST OF TRADITIONISM. 

Every reader of the public journals, v^ho is accustamed to 
observe *' the signs of the times/' has been led to watch, with 
increasing interest, for a few years past, the agitation of the 
Church question in England, to mark the progress of that 
mighty conflict of opposing elements now raging from the center 
to the circumference of the Establishment ; and, of late, espe- 
cially, has been struck with the fact that the tid^ of sentiment 
among English Churchmen has been turning toward Rome 
with a stronger and accelerated flow. When a paper like the 
London Times comes to express its sympathy with the *' public 
surprise'- that men of the highest rank and character, men who 
had won universal confidence as sturdy champions of the 
Anglican Church, should become •' apostates,"' we may feel 
quite sure that Rome is garnering rich harvests from the fields 
of Oxford orthodoxy, that the boasts of Cardinal Wiseman are 
something more than ^" sounding brass/' and that the reception 
of his ^' red cap*' denotes something more than a mere empty 
pai'ade. 

Among the apostasies that have created a sensation in Eng- 
land, is that of Viscount Fielding, a young nobleman who has 
been signalized as a standard-bearer in the ranks of the anti- 
Puseyites, and whom the Guardian says it was constrained to 
oppose at the last Cambridge election on account of his 



4:6 Appkndix. 



•• bigoted denunciations — in language redolent of the platforra 
of Exeter Hall — against any diplomatic intercourse with Rome."' 
Now he has grounded his arms, has made his confession, and 
kneels at the feet of •' the Holy Motliter." Others have fol- 
lowed in his lordship's footsteps, and among them is the Rev. 
Henry Wilberforce, brother of the Bishop of Oxford, who was 
received into the Popish church at Mechlin, on the Continent, 
whither he had gone a short time before, in company with 
Archdeacon Manning, who is supposed to sympathize cordially 
with this movement. One of Mr. Wilberforce's early friends 
and fellow-students in the school of Dr. Pusey, was the Rev. 
T. W. Allies, ex-chaplain of the Bishop of London. He has 
just resigned the rectory of Launton, and from the pulpit de- 
clared to his congregation that "' he could not endure the in- 
famy that contradictory doctrine, even upon the holy sacrament 
of baptism, was permitted to be taught even by the ministers 
of the Anglican Church* and that, while they would be told 
in the church of Linton that infants w^ere regenerated by 
God's Holy Spirit in baptism, they would hear just the contrary 
in the church of Bicester. He would, therefore, give them a 
sermon no more by word, but by deed, in that he w^ould resign 
his living, teaching them thereby that they should follow the 
truth whithersoever it might lead them." Mr. Allies carried 
his purpose into execution, left a rectory worth nearly four 
thousand dollars per annum, and was received into the Romish 
Church at St. Winfred's, near Cheadle, by Rev. Dr. Newman, 
of Oxford memory. 

In the eyes of Rome, the Bishop of Oxford's family was a 
fitting soil to receive and nourish the seeds of her doctrine ] for 
it appears that she received at her altars three sisters-in-law 
of that eminent prelate, and the Rev. G. Dudley Ryder, a con- 
nection of the family by marriage. We once had the pleasure 
of hearing a sermon from the Bishop of Oxford, who gave a hit 
at the Dissenters while he was extolling the Church of Eng- 
land : '' a church," he said, '• whose formularies contain, not 
the crude expositions of ignorance and presumption, but the 
piety, the learning, and the wisdom of ages concentrated !" It 



Appendix. 47 



was the aim of his discourse to invest the church standards 
with the sanctions of Heaven as the infallible guides of faith. 
Who can wonder that the disciples of such doctrines should 
carry them to their legitimate issues, and seek the oracles of 
infallibility on the banks of the Tiber, whence the English 
bishops themselves received their ordination and their author- 
ity ? Must not men reap what they sow? Can they gather 
grapes from thorns ? Can thinking and earnest minds really 
believe that their salvation depends on their receiving the sac- 
raments from the hands of rightly-consecrated priests, and 
then be disposed to risk their eternal destiny on such flimsy 
arguments as those which are alleged to justify the usurpations 
of Henry VHI.. who abjured the long-acknowledged supremacy 
of the Pope in England, and proclaimed himself the head of the 
church and defender of the faith ? Can such persons commit 
the life of their souls, derived as it is from the authorized ad- 
ministration of water, bread and wine, to the keeping of an 
order of priests sprung from that race of men who all hung in 
abject dependence on the nod of Elizabeth, a queen who had it 
in her power to say to the Bishop of Peterborough, that if he 
did not do as she bade him, ''' By God, I will unfrock you ?" 
Surely, in the view of these '• perverts,*' as they are called in 
England, salvation is a serious business; and, according to the 
principles which they have been taught, they have taken the 
safe course, they have faithfully followed ''the law of devel- 
opment." 

In fact, the Church of England, during the recent agitation 
of fundamental questions, has felt herself pressed by the horns 
of a dilemma, which was pointed but by the Archbishop of 
York, in the year 1558, during the debates of Parliament. The 
bill before the House was for attaching the supremacy of the 
church to the queen. According to Hansa.rd, the archbishop 
said, that if the Church of England withdraw from the Church 
of Rome, she would, by that act, directly forsake and fly from 
all general councils ] and he proceeded to prove that the first 
four councils, of Nice, Constantinople, Ephesus, and Chalce 
don, had acknowledged the supremacy of Rome. He then pre- 



48 Appendix. 



sented this alternative for consideration : Either the Church 
of Rome is a true or a false one. If she be a true church, then 
we will be guilty of schism in leaving her, will be excom- 
municated by her, and the Church of England will become 
herself a false church. If the Church of Rome be a false 
church, then she can not be a pure source of apostolical succes- 
sion : and the Church of England must be false, because she 
derived her ordination and sacraments from that of Rome. 
This argument of the archbishop is as strong now as ever 
against those who would establish the clpJms of their church 
on the basis of a regular priestly succession. The High 
Churchmen of England, to a great extent, believe the Church 
of Rome to be essentially a true church • and cherishing this 
conviction, they dare not brave the hazards of remaining vol- 
untarily in a state of schism. As Mr. Allies declared for him- 
self, they '' will follow the truth whithersoever it may lead.'^ 
We can not but sympathize with the anxieties of those sin- 
cere inquirers after the way of truth, and after ^' the old paths," 
who have been brought up in England under such teachings ; 
nor less, with the feeling of difficulty on the part of those who 
have been reared in the Episcopal Church of America, which, 
as a branch of the Parliamentary Church of England, is beset 
with the same troublesome questions that take their rise in the 
doctrine of apostolical succession. After having been taught 
to place their hope of acceptance with God on the validity of 
sacraments ; after this doctrine has become an essential ele- 
ment of their creed, and has interwoven itself with all their 
cherished forms of religious thought, it becomes a momentous 
business to assure them.selves that they are favored with the 
ministrations of a priesthood that can connect itself with the 
Apostles by an historical chain whose links have never been 
broken. Who can tell what gloomy periods of painful sus- 
pense such inquiring spirits are called to pass through ? And 
while they hear their own priests acknowledge the Church of 
Rome to be a true one, and know that this '' true church''' de- 
nounces the one to which they belong as being heretical and 
schismatical, denying the authority of her priesthood, and the 



ArPKXDix. 49 

validity of her sacraments, v\'ho can wonder that they choose 
what mustj in that case, appear to them to be the safe side ! 
Who can wonder that they should hail, as a welcome refuge, 
amidst their longings for mental repose, the altars of a church 
w^hose antiquity is undisputed, whose priesthood they had held 
as sacred, and whose sacraments they had revered as God's ap- 
pointed channels for conveying the balm of life to the sick and 
perishing? No, we wonder not. There are many in this land^ 
who, by such steps, have reached this conclusion, and there a,re 
many others now tending toward it by a drift of influences 
which it is morally impossible for them to resist. 

It is said that Lady Fielding has been for some time engaged 
in building a beautiful church on her estates in Wales, in- 
tended, at the first, for the Church of England, but now des- 
tined to be dedicated to the service of Rome. In England, this 
change has produced a sensation. Here, as well as elsewhere, 
there are many who expect that within the realm of religion 
M-e may sow tares and reap wheat. They deny that the 
Bible alone is a sufficient guide of faith and practice; they im- 
plant the elements of traditionism in the hearts of the young, 
and then are quite astounded when the natural crop of Romish 
errors appears in full bloom and fruitage. 

In New York, as we have learned, there is at the present 
time an Ecclesiological Society, designed to revive a taste for 
mediaeval arts and fashions, which, in this latitude, are in- 
vested with a charm of novelty. From the moss-covered ruins 
of a decayed ritualism, it culls all the pretty fancies which it 
may be convenient to naturalize among us. Octagon fonts — 
knives and spoons for the communion with handles of cross- 
form — cloths for the communion-table of different colors for dif- 
ferent holy seasons — bier covers with monograms and crosses 
— superaltars Aid candlesticks of canonical patterns — these, 
'* and such like things." this society looks after, and offers 
many of them for sale, '' cheap for cash,'* so as to facilitate 
their restoration to the popular customs. Thus, while, on the 
one hand, transcendentalism is laboring to destroy all reverence 
for the authority of the Word of God, on the other hand, tradi- 



50 Appendix. 



tionism is aiming to overlay it with the miserable rubbish of 
the superstitious ages. 

What should be the effect of these things upon the enlight- 
ened and true-hearted Christian? Certainly it should be to 
strengthen his love and increase his zeal for that pure Word 
of God which is " sure, making wise the simple/' to quicken 
his resolution to do all that lieth in him to diffuse the knowl- 
edge of it ; by means of Bible classes. Sunday schools, and 
family instruction, to have our youth rooted and grounded in 
its wholesome truths, and thus to aid in hastening that glori- 
ous victory over error which the redeemed in heaven shall 
celebrate in the song which the pen of inspiration has already 
written — '• Thou hast magnified thy Word above all thy 



Note B. Page 18. 

INADEQUATE IDEAS OF A STATE CHURCH. 

The course pursued by the excellent Baptist Noel, in aban- 
doning the Church of England, called forth many censures 
from evangelical ministers : not only from those who are con- 
nected with the English Establishment, but also from those 
who hold distinguished positions among the Episcopalians in 
America. A few years ago, such censures filled many a column 
in the religious papers on both sides of the Atlantic. Even 
now, they are occasionally repeated. It has been said that the 
point of offense, the cardinal error, was, not in Jjiis becoming a 
Baptist, but in his leaving a church in which he might have 
been useful, and to which he owed a sacred allesjiance. Ameri- 
can clergymen have been heard to utter language respecting 
Baptist Noel, very much like that which Southey^ wrote respect- 
ing the author of the Pilgrim's Progress when he extolled the 



Appp:ndix. 61 



liberality of the English Church toward him, and declared 
that Bunyan was not persecuted for his opinions, but only 
legally restrained from exhorting persons to '* regard with ab- 
horrence that Protestant Church which is essentially part of 
the constitution of this kingdom, from the doctrines of which 
church, except in the point of infant baptism, he did not differ 
a hair's breadth." 

From the tone of Southey's remarks, it is pretty evident that 
he overlooked one thing ; namely, that Banyan considered the 
simple fact that a church should be essentially a part of the 
constitution of a kingdom, as a flas^rant violation of the consti- 
tutional laws of Christianity. And many intelligent men, 
who have uttered their opinion respecting the course which 
Mr. Noel ought to have taken, have made the same mistake in 
regard to him, and have failed to see the relative importance 
which he attaches to the union of the Church with the State 
as a fundamental error in religion, as the proof of apostasy 
from the teachings of Christ, and from the essential character 
of apostolical Christianity. The Christian dispensation is dis- 
tinguished from all others by its spirituality. This is one of 
its leading features, and one which our Lord placed among the 
initial truths that he taught, as we see was the case in those in- 
structions that he gave to the woman whom he met at the well 
of Samaria. 

The Jewish economy was national, and persons became parts 
of its Church-and-State system by natural birth. But the first 
truth which our Lord taught an inquiring Rabbi was, that under 
the reign of the Messiah it should not be so ,* for, ^* except a 
. man be bom again he can not enter into the kingdom of God.'' 
Christ's harbinger touched the same point first of all, directing 
the shafts of truth against that reliance on a connection with 
the Abrahamic covenant which was then so popular, saying, 
" think not to say within yourselves we have Abraham to our 
father." He called on men to repent and believe, and then, by 
receiving baptism, to become visible and acknowledged mem- 
bers of that newly organized assembly which he was gather- 
ing, *'• the people made ready for the Lord." the church of the 



52 Appendix. 

Messiah. He addressed men as individuals, and refused to re- 
ceive them on any other ground than that of a personal faith, 
professed in a spirit of obedience. With him and with his 
Master, circumcision was nothing, uncircumcision nothing, but 
" faith which worketh by love." 

These things being so, it is not merely impolitic, but it is 
contrary to the genius of Christianity, contrary to its essential 
elements of doctrine, to admit any one to any rite of the church 
on account of his having been born within its pale, or to make 
the church itself a part of a political system of government. 
He who sees this truth as clearly as Mr. Noel sees it, can not 
keep " a conscience void of offense,'' and yet maintain a con- 
nection with a State Church, governed by a Parliament, and 
owning a queen as its legal head. To any one who takes the 
New Testament as the standard of Christianity, it is saddening 
to look over the world and see how a simple religion, sent from 
heaven to attract men thither, has been subordinated to the low 
views and mean interests of a temporal and secular policy. It 
is saddening to see how the governments of the world, which 
have set themselves up to patronize Christianity, have para- 
lyzed her power and shorn her of her glory. It is saddening to 
see how, under the pretense of exalting her, they have debased 
her spirit, and disgraced her name ; how, while pretending to 
establish Christianity by law, they have established a merely 
human authority, and have caused her to echo the dogmas of 
courts and councils. And then, is it not saddening to see that, 
as the last and worst of all, they have praised this establish- 
ment as the true, and only true church of Jesus Christ ? As if 
the church of Christ cowZ(i be established by human law? As 
if a spiritual religion, which addresses itself to the free choice 
of men, considered as free agents, could be enforced by legal 
enactments ! The thing is impossible. It involves a contra- 
diction. However honored maybe the history of any church 
on earth, however far it may be extended, with whatever 
names it may be distinguished and adorned, its pretense of 
being as to its outward constitution, the true church of Christ, 
is nullified by the fact that it is a church established by human 



Appendix. 53 



law. So far as it is established by law so far it is a part of a 
political system, and just so far, constitutionally considered, it 
has lost the character of a true church of Christ. 'So that the 
mere fact, that a church is established by the legislation of a 
State, furnishes a sufficient reason why a Christian man should 
leave it, as having in its constitution those elements which are 
at war with the spiritual nature, the primary principles, and the 
high moral ends of the Christian dispensation. 

This connection of religion with politics has been from age 
to age the prolific source of unnumbered and unspeakable evils. 
It has blinded men to the real nature of religion. It has dead- 
ened their hearts to a sense of its claims. It has made religion 
to appear as a mere creature of circumstances, depending, as to 
its obligations, on the accident of birth in a particular country. 
It has made attachment to Christianity to bt a matter of mere 
patriotism or prejudice. It has tended to bind the weaker class 
of minds in the fetters of human creeds, formularies, and ob- 
servances, and to alienate the stronger from all religion what- 
soever, as being the contemptible appendage of political craft. 
True religion, left to itself and its voluntary advocates, will 
earn its own triumphs : for, ^' it is not by might, nor by power, 
but by my Spirit, saith the Lord." And yet it is a solemn fact, 
deserving to be thought of, that the majority of nominal Chris- 
tians in the world at the present time would regard these say- 
ings as containing enormous heresies, and also, that there are 
clergymen in this country who regard the legal establishment 
of Christianity as the great want of America. 

Hence, while we care for a benighted world, we have every 
reason to pray that religion may everywhere be free, that the 
governments of the world may neither oppose it by their power 
nor contaminate it by their patronage, but that they may yield 
to its moral sway, and give it •• free course," that it may be 
glorified. 



54 Appendix. 



Note C. Page 25. 
THE CHRISTIAN CITIZEN'S DUTY TO CIVIL GOVERNMENT. 

A WRITER in the Ckristicin Review^ in an article on Harper's 
edition of Blackstbne's Commentaries, takes occasion to recom- 
mend the study of that work to readers of every class and pro- 
fession. He says, " The general principles of our institutions 
and laws are matters of immediate and profound interest to 
every individual citizen; and we hold it to be even culpable 
for any citizen to remain in ignorance of those principles, who 
has the opportunity to cultivate an acquaintance with them. 
With such views, we would urge the study of the present edi- 
tion of Blackstone, which Mr. Wendell has so well American- 
ized, upon intelligent readers of all classes and occupations.'' 
This is sound advice, and in connection with it, we would ob- 
serve that a school-book on '' the science of government" should 
have a place in every system of American education. Black- 
stone can be read by comparatively few ; but a work of this 
latter kind might be, and ought to be placed in the hands of 
every school-boy throughout the land. 

A great duty, which every Christian citizen owes to himself, 
to his children, and to his country, is to keep his mind well-in- 
formed respecting the Constitution of the Commonwealth, and 
of the nation, respecting public men and public measures. In 
despotic countries, the more ignorance the more peace; but 
where the people are the source of the law, '* intelligence is 
the life of liberty." Of a good government, sleepless vigilance 
is the only safeguard. 

Moreover, every citizen needs to be impressed with his obli- 
gations to use the elective franchise in the fear of God, and in 
the spirit of enlarged patriotism. It is a noble legacy, be- 
queathed to us by those who bought it at the price of toil and 
pain, exile and blood. To prostitute it to the narrow aims of 



Appendix. 55 



personal interest, of private friendsliip, of a party, or a faction, 
is a great '• breach of trust'^ in the sight ot Heaven. And all 
party becomes faction except when it is bound together by some 
important principle, or by measures in which the public good 
is involved. For any one to throw away the right of suffrage, 
is, in most cases, sadly to negelect his duty to his country and 
to mankind ] and equally so is it to use this power in order to 
exalt any candidate to office, except the one whom he deems, 
on the whole, to be best qualified to fill it. ■ 

Besides, as it is essential to a good government to attain its 
ends by the use of only righteous means, every citizen is bound 
to exert his influence against the sanctioning of any other. 
Governments are really bound by the laws of righteousness, as 
well as individuals, however often the reverse of this may have 
been practically assumed by this world's statemanship. It is 
this, indeed, which renders the diplomatic history of Europe so 
sickening to an honest mind. Nowhere in the history of pirates, 
highwaymen, and swindlers, can darker deeds of fraud, chi- 
canery, and intrigue be found, than in the negotiations of one 
country with those of another. It is, as Adam Smith, author 
of •■ The Wealth of Nations,'' long ago observed : •• Truth 
and fair dealing are almost totally disregarded. Treaties are 
violated, and the violation, if some advantage is gained by it, 
sheds scarcely any dishonor on 1jie violator. The just man, 
who, in all private transactions, would be the most beloved, is 
regarded as a fool and an idiot, who does not understand his 
business, and he incurs always the contempt, and sometimes 
even the detestation, of his fellow-citizens.'* This is a true 
witness. The only antidote to such an evil, is a virtuous 
public opinion, and in order to strengthen this against every 
infraction of the principles of right or justice, every Christian 
citizen should earnestly protest. Thus only can the blessing i 
of the Almighty Ruler of the universe be secured. '^ Shall the 
thrones of iniquity, who frame mischief by a law, have fellow-/ 
ship with Him?" No; *• He will speak to them in his wrath/ 
and vex them in his sore displeasure ] he will rule them vrith. 
n rod of iron, and dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel." 



66 Appendix. 

The truth which we have now stated becomes especially im- 
portant in this our age and Republic, because it is so common 
now to advocate the doctrine that, even on a moral question so 
momentous as that of war, the individual should yield up his 
belief and his conscience to the decision of the government ; 
that, if a man believe a war to be aggressive and unjust, he 
should, nevertheless, engage in it, or sanction it, from a prin- 
ciple of allegiance to government. By men of opposing posi- 
tions, like that of Mr. Brownson, the defender of Popery, on the 
one hand, that of Cassms M. Clay, the defender of universal 
freedom, on the other, this doctrine of loyalty is promulged. 
Than this, there are probably few political teachings which 
could be more properly called anti-Christian. Where a gov- 
ernment demands that of an individual which contradicts his 
convictions of eternal justice and the divine will, the right 
answer is that of Peter and the early Christians to the Sanhe- 
drims of their time ] " Whether it be right in the sight of God 
to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye !'^ 

^' What !'' says one, •* must every individual be allowed to set 
up his own judgment in such a case against that of the govern- 
ment ?'' Undoubtedly he must, as far as his own conduct is con- 
cerned, and, moreover, he must act on the convictions of his own 
conscience, at the peril of losing his soul — the peril of final con- 
demnation from a higher than an earthly tribunal — the dis- 
pleasure of that just God, who, to his adversaries, is '^ a con- 
suming fire.^' To this case belongs the warning of the Saviour : 
^' Fear not them who kill the body, and after that have no 
more that they can do ; but fear Him, who, after that he hath 
killed the body, hath power to destroy both soul and body in 
hell \ yea, I say unto you, fear Him.^' 

^* But then,'' says the worldly statesman, " what, in the 
emergency of war, would become of the public interests ?" It 
is worthy of observation here, that while it has been well said, 
that •' war is a game, which, were their subjects wise, kings 
would not play at," it is also true, that, in an enlightened and 
free Republic, the servants of the people who conduct the gov- 
ernment, will always understand, that they can never wage a 



Appendix. 57 



war with success or hope, unless they carry the convictions of 
good men with them. They will also understand, that in the 
view of Christians, if a demand of government is opposed to 
the revealed will of God, at that point the rightful authority 
of government ceases. Let these maxims be abandoned, and 
then, as far as all the ureat aims and ends of a man's being are 
concerned, the citizen of a republic is really enslaved as much 
as the Russian serf under a military despotism. His conscience 
is crushed, and he can not say that his soul is his own. It is 
always a terrible evil for a government to misjudge the ques- 
tion of war — to declare that to be just which is unnecessary 
and unjust ; but it is a far greater evil, one which more deeply 
wounds a nation's honor, and depraves a nation's conscience, 
for a government or a people to confess that a war is ^Tong, and 
yet to command their armies to fight it out in spite of justice, 
resolving from year to year to furnish the means to carry it 
forward with resistless energy. 

The great want of our country at this time, is a larger body 
of enlightened, leading men, who will look at things in the 
light of reason and Christianity, who will follow higher guid- 
ing lights than the corrupt political maxims of the old world, 
who will be true to their own convictions, who will speak them 
forth with moral courage, and will act on them with consist- 
ency. Such men are God's gifts, and it becomes Christians to 
pray that He would raise them up in our midst, in accordance 
with the^ prophecy, 



" I will make thine officers Peace, 
And thine exactors Kighteousness," 



58 Appendix. 



Note D. Page 26. 
CHRISTIANITY AND SLAVERY. 

An earnest writer, in a respectable religious journal, while 
deprecating agitation on tlie subject of slavery, expresses in the 
following sentence a widely-spread opinion: 

'^ Christianity, which, by its healing and purifying processes, 
obliterated slavery in the Roman Empire, will doubtless do as 
much for our Republic : especially as the Bible is now satur- 
ating the public mind with its light, liberty, and love.'' 

Two questions are here suggested to us. 

1. How can a Christianity which sanctions the slave rela- 
tion, and prescribes its duties, gradually overthrow it ? We 
believe this to be impossible. One practical proof of this is the 
fact, that those who advocate the perpetuation of slavery, are 
constantly claiming for it the sanctions of Christianity. The 
overthrow of the system will never be the trophy of such a 
Christianity as that. Would Christianity have overthrown 
idolatry, if, instead of ojDposing, it had sanctioned the system ? 

2. On what grounds is it asserted, that *' Christianity oblit- 
erated slavery in the Roman Empire?'' So far is this from 
being true, the stern fact stares us in the face, that the Roman 
Empire itself was destroyed by slavery. Perhaps, if a school- 
boy were asked the question, What overturned the Roman 
Empire ? his first answer would be. The conquests of the 
northern barbarians. But then, the question returns, What 
caused that weakness of the Empire, which gave the barbarians 
a chance to overturn it ? The answer is. The slave system 
within the Empire corroded the core of its strength, and ren- 
dered it a mere shell, unable to resist the pressure of its 
enemies. 

This is the truth of history. Tacitus informs us that the 
Romans feared to let the number of their slaves be known, and 



Appendix. 69 

forbade the wearing of a peculiar dress, lest they should be- 
come aware of their strength. But in our country, the God of 
nature had furnished a peculiar dress for them, which statute 
law can not remove. On the point of which we speak, how- 
ever, Allison gives us a clear and simple statement, in the In- 
troduction to his ^* History of Modern Europe." (See Harper's 
edition, page 22.) He says, '' The steady growth, unequaled 
extent, and long duration of the Roman Empire proves the 
wisdom of their political system ^ but it fell a prey, at length, 
to the dreadful evil of Domestic Slavery. It was this incur- 
able evil which, even in the time of Augustus, thinned the 
ranks of the legions ] which, in process of time, filled the armies 
with mercenary soldiers, and the provinces with great proprie- 
tors • which, subsequently, rendered it impracticable to raise 
a military force in the southern provinces cf the Empire, and 
at length consumed the vitals of the State, and left nothing to 
withstand the barbarians but nobles, who wanted courage to 
defend their property, and slaves, who were destitute of prop- 
erty to rouse their courage.'' 

Well, if the Roman Empire fell a victim to slavery, why do 
we hear it so often repeated, that Christianity obliterated 
slavery in the Roman Empire ? Modern Christian Europe is 
not the Roman Empire, any more than the Mexico of our day 
is apart of the Spanish Empire. Undoubtedly, if the Roman 
world had received the pure Christianity of the New Testament 
as Christ preached it, slavery would have been destroyed, and 
the Empire would have been both renovated and saved. The 
barbarian conquests, which were the immediate occasion (not 
the cause) of the fall of the Empire, gave rise to the modern 
kingdoms of Europe : and these invaders, having professed 
Christianity, developed those elements of the true religion 
which they received, in the gradual destruction of slavery. 

But, in regard to European and American slavery, there is a 
very important distinction to be noticed. European slavery 
was an institution inherited from Paganism, and, like other 
Pagan institutions, disappeared from modern Europe before the 
march of Christianity. Bat American slavery was ORiciNATF.n 



60 Appendix. 



hy Christian nations themselves, under the sway of a corrupt 
and warlike Christianity. From its first triumphs in Africa 
until the present hour, it has sought to invest itself with the 
sanctions of our holy religion. For ages past it has been 
strengthening itself on this continent, aiming at extension, and 
claiming to be let alone^ on the ground that it is a Christian in- 
stitution. Pulpits, presbyteries, associations, and religious 
presses, like the Observer^ have long been saying aloud, '• The 
apostles let slavery alone, and we should follow their example.'' 
And as an argument for this, we are gravely told that this 
slave system, which began under Christianity, if left undis- 
turbed, will fall by the power of that very Christianity which 
sanctions the relation ! Can any thing be more absurd than 
this ? We have no belief in it, and for it wx have no respect. 
The laws of nature and Providence may destroy slavery by the 
severe penalties which they inflict, but the destruction of the 
system can never be the trophy of a Christianity so corrupt ii? 
its essential elements. 

What, then, is the proper ground for the Christian Church to 
occupy ? Evidently, she should hold forth a faithful testimony 
as to the original doctrines of Christianity touching human 
rights, touching the natural equality of all men before God and 
before the law, and also the doctrine of Christian brotherhood. 
In the early ages, we know that true Christians lavished their 
money freely to redeem their brethren from bondage, because, 
as they said, •• Christ died for all alike ;" and they believed, 
with the apostle John, '•• We ought to lay down our lives for 
the brethren.'' For a professed Christian voluntarily to hold a 
brother in bondage, against his will, is as inconsistent with 
Christ's teachings as any crimes whatsoever. Let these great 
truths, as taught in the Sermon on the Mount, be restored to 
the Church at large ; then, and not till then, will she put forth 
a moral power sufficient to extirpate slavery from the land, and 
elevate her captive children to *' the liberty wherewith Christ 
hath set them free." 



Appendix. 61 



Note E. Page 28. 

MOHAMMEDAN AND CHRISTIAN POWERS. 
A MEMORANDUM OF THE YEAR 1849. 

Among the strange spectacles that Europe exhibited in the 
year 1849, there was none more instructive than the contrast 
of positions occupied by the Sultan of Turkey, and their Chris- 
tian majesties the Emperors of Ptussia and Austria^ in relation 
to the cause of freedom. There is at this hour more religious 
liberty enjoyed in Turkey than in those Christian States which 
lie upon her borders. For some years past Turkey has been 
turning her steps into the path of progress and improvement, 
and taking lessons from England, France^ and America in^ 
regard to Science, Art, and Education. She has had French 
officers to discipline her troops, and American architects to 
construct her ships. The young Sultan, now upon the throne, 
is treading in the steps of his father, who began this course of 
innovation with a high hand, in spite of the inveterate preju- 
dices which centuries had strengthened. And now we have 
seen Austria and Russia, professing Christianity, defending the 
worst forms of ancient despotism by the union of their arms, 
while Mohammedan Turkey has become the asylum of the 
oppressed and the champion of human rights. Into what a 
false position is the Christian religion thus thrown by its being 
made to coalesce with systems of political oppression. Tfianks 
to Providence, there is one gentleman upon a European throne, 
although that throne is not called Christian. 

The course of events in the present century has brought to 
view no change in relations of States more wonderful and 
unexpected than that which is now becoming the talk of the 
whole world ; namely, that Turkey, which so lately seemed to 
be linking into decay, is in fact developing new elements of 
life, and rising up to be the bulwark against the baptized bar- 



62 Appendix. 



barism of the North. The fact is instructive. It exhibits a 
Mohammedan power in an attitude of dignity superior to that 
of its Christian neighbors. It indicates to us how little there 
is to choose between the nominal religion of the Greek and 
Catholic Christians and the religion of Mohammed. The simple 
Christianity of the New Testament bears on its front the evi- 
dence of its heavenly origin^ and is the greatest blessing which 
a people can receive ; but it is often seen that the greatest 
blessing, when perverted, becomes the greatest curse ; and so 
that nominal Christianity which is established by law, which 
is the creature of politics and the tool of kings, which is taught 
by a state-paid priesthood and maintained by the sword of per- 
secution, is a more deadly antagonist to the moral progress of 
a nation than the religion of '- the false prophet,'^ or even 
some forms of Paganism. Many Christian writers of England 
and America have been conciliated to the prospect of Russian 
domination over Turkey by the thought that the cross would 
then supplant the crescent ; but unless the crescent can be 
supplanted by the peaceful teachings of the New Testament 
it had as well retain its place. A Russian Christianity with 
all its oppressions would deserve and receive the contempt of 
infidels, and would verify the saying of the apostle, '' The 
name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles through you, 
as it is written.*' 

But the favorable changes which are now beginning to be 
seen in Turkey are owing in a great degree to the peaceful 
influence of Christian principles, co-operating with the course 
of Providence. American missionaries, as well as others, have 
long been at work in Turkey without seeming to accomplish 
any good. The American Board deserves great praise for its 
perseverance in maintaining the heralds of the srospel in that 
dark land when scarce a ray of light dawned upon their pros- 
pects. They chose '' to bide their time." Their time has 
come. New openings greet them on every hand. The little 
leaven is beginning to spread through the lump. The buried 
seed is rearing its blade above the surface, to be followed by 
^' the ear, and then the full corn in the eai '' The mighty 



Appendix. C3 

element of missionary influence, so long in silent operation, 
will soon have larger scope and verge, and will show itself in 
results that will stand as memorials of its triumph on the 
broad field of History. 

Moreover, cheering prospects have been opening before us of 
late, in regard to the progress of freedom among the Oriental 
people of the Old World. 

Lord Palmerston stated in the English House of Commons 
that the Bey of Tunis had prohibited within his dominions, not 
only the slave-trade, but the slave system. The Sultan of 
Turkey had issued firmans forbidding the slave-trade among 
his subjects in the Eastern seas. The Imaum of Muscat had 
abolished it within certain latitudes. The Arabian chiefs, in 
the Persian Gulf had also abandoned it, and the Shah of Per- 
sia had published a firman against it. 

It will be perceived that these decisive proceedings have 
taken place in Mohammedan countries, and they are the effects, 
chiefly, of British influence. It has been asked when will this 
"free country" follow in the wake of such noble examples in 
the cause of freedom ? In answering this question it may be 
well to observe that the religious sentiment of Mohammedans is, 
in one important respect, in advance of the religious sentiment of 
a great multitude of Christians in this land. A Mohammedan 
deems it a sin to enslave his brother in the faith ; but American 
Christians, teachers and preachers here, publicly declare that 
the slave relation is allowed by Christianity, and is perfectly 
consistent with the relations of Christian brotherhood. Now 
this difference of religious belief touching slavery must render 
it more easy to abolish slavery among Mohammedans than 
among Christians, just so far as this difference exists. In the 
view of Mohammedans, slavery is, to a certain extent, inconsist- 
ent with their religion. But in the view of many American 
Christians of the highest standing in the Church, slavery is sanc- 
tioned by Christianity. While such a state of sentiment pre- 
vails among the churches of America, freedom will not be much 
indebted to their religion for her triumphs. Nevertheless, this 
class of persons tells us that they are. in principle^ friends of 



64 Appendix. 



freedom. If so, it is as men, not as Christians, that they are 
friends of freedom. Their religion does nothing in the work 
of emancipation. Their humanity, their philosophy, their 
political economy may do something, but their Christianity 
must be utterly ineffective. If Mohammedanism should prevail 
universally, personal freedom would prevail also ] but if this 
sort of Christianity should gain the world, even then slavery 
might be perpetuated. Truly we may say to these men, ^' The 
name of Christ is blasphemed among the Gentiles through you, 
as it is written.' ' 



Note F. Page 30. 
COMMERCE AND SLAVERY. 

In a leading political paper there appeared an article headed 
^' Commerce versus Abolition," which is intended to furnish a 
clue to the policy of the North, as projected by some of our states- 
men, and to sound the key-note to the doctrines which are deemed 
essential to the preservation of northern interests. It states that 
in the city of New York there are about twenty-five millions of 
dollars invested in the coastwise trade with the Southern cities 
of the Union ; that from the immense trade connected with 
steamers, ships, brigs, and schooners, moving in fleets to Balti- 
more, Norfolk, Cape Fear River, Charleston, Savannah, Darien, 
Apalachicola, Pensacola, New Orleans, Galveston, and other 
Southern ports where slavery exists, millions of dollars go into 
the hands of our shipbuilders, shipwrights, blacksmiths, Wvood- 
cutters, sailmakers, ropeweavers, and men employed in other 
kinds of business. Picturing forth in glowing colors the com- 
mercial prosperity of New York, it declares that if the anti- 
slavery doctrines, proclaimed by the democrats on the platform 
at Buffalo, and by a Whig Convention at Syracuse, shall be 



Appendix. ' 65 



sanctioned by the voting masses of the North, all this property 
will be wrecked, made worthless, and utterly annihilated. 
Such is the thrilling appeal which it addresses to the pocket of 
the merchant, without one word of comfort or of hope to the 
conscience and the heart of humanity. 

The sentiment of this article is not singular. It accords 
with the tone of other papers, chiming in harmony with the 
South Carolina doctrine, that the slave system of the United 
States is designed to be a perpetual institution. It deprecates 
all agitation of the slavery question. It involves principles 
which our fathers repudiated, which are directly opposed to 
our Declaration of Independence, to the spirit of our constitu- 
tion, to the elements of moral science, to the teachings of 
Christianity; and all this under the guise of an enlarged spirit 
of nationality. *' For substance of doctrine,'' it maintains this 
position in solemn earnest — that between the South and the 
North there should be an implied contract, a bargain understood 
on both sides, that in consideration of the gains of Southern 
trade, we will yield to a small body of planters the right to 
rule the free millions of the country, to mold our national 
policy, and to fix the color and complexion of our destiny for- 
ever. 

Shall this be so ? This has become the great question of 
our time — a question for the men of the present generation to 
decide. The responsibility is inevitable, and is the leading 
feature of that national probation which God is calling us to 
pass. Many, no doubt, would gladly close their eyes to this 
reality, would gladly pursue what seems to be the interest of 
the hour, and leave it to Providence to work out the welfare 
of humanity without their co-operation. But this can not be. 
American freemen must either passively consent to be the tools 
of that great colossal slave-power which now bestrides the 
land from the borders of Mexico to the Canadas, or they must 
rouse up, like Sampson, from their benumbing sleep, breaking 
asunder, not the '• green withes,'' nor the '• new ropes," but the 
golden chains with which they have been bound, and so achieve 
deliverance for themselves and their posterity. 



66 Appendix. 

Numerous and varied have been the changes rung, of late, 
upon the commercial ties that unite the North and the South. 
Again and again have Southern politicians threatened to break 
them } again and again have Northern politicians responded 
in accents of real or affected terror, and in pledges of subser- 
viency. The writer referred to, lilje Demetrius of Ephesus, 
aims to rouse the craftsmen by the rallying cry, *• Our trade is 
in danger y^ to fan their fears into a storm of passion, to lead 
their hosts to fall prostrate before the shrine of Commerce, and 
to take up the strain of the Ephesian mob as a kind of Amer- 
ican Marseilles Hymn — '* Great is the Diana of New York.*' 
The North, he says, have now the monopoly of the Southern 
coastwise trade : but unless the North shall become quiet on 
the '• delicate subject, '' the boon will be granted to another 
people. As if the legislation of the South had granted com- 
mercial favors to the North in the spirit of patronizing kind- 
ness, grace, and magnanimity ! As if the principles which 
regulate commercial wealth, and the interchanges of comm.u- 
nities, rested on so shallow a basis as men's arbitrary enact- 
ments ! As if the God of nature had not constituted society 
with those pressing wants which render mercantile intercourse 
an imperative necessity ! Why, even during the war with 
Mexico, American merchants were engaged in large transac- 
tions with Mexican houses in the exercise of mutual confi- 
dence. And even now, if Mr. Calhoun's darling project of a 
Southern confederacy were realized, the South would not let 
her surplus products rot in her fields, but would send them to 
the most profitable market^, and would buy the things necessary 
to supply her wants just where she could do so to her own 
advantage. The South has not helped to make New Yoi-k what 
it is in the spirit of a generous legislation, but by following 
those mighty laws of wealth which God established before the 
cotton had grown in her fields, or the sweat of a slave had 
moistened her soil. 

Far be it from us to depreciate commerce on the ground of 
moral and religious principles. We honor the spirit, but not 
the wisdom, of iho^.e old Waldenses who abjured trade as a 



Appendix. 67 

profession on account of its corrupting tendencies, and treated 
it as unlawful because of the '' lies and trickery'' with which 
It was connected. But the best gifts of Heaven may be abused, 
and commerce is abused when it is made the minister of op- 
pression. This has often been done. We learn from Scrip- 
ture that the cry of '• unjust gain'' has pierced the skies, and 
brought down heavy judgments. Commerce has its dark and 
its bright side, its aspects of honor and of shame, of dignity and 
of meanness. It has exerted the most benign agencies ; it has 
found men ignorant, rude, isolated, selfish, and savage, and 
causing them to feel an interest in the common welfare of 
their race, has become the great promoter of art, civilization, 
and humanity. On the other hand, it has often been seen 
lending its aid to the '' powers of darkness •" it has lighted up 
the flames of war on the coast of Africa, ^*t has doomed mil- 
lions to the horrors of the middle passage, it has reddened the 
Atlantic with the blood of captives, it has rent the sacred ties 
of domestic relations, it has ministered to intemperance and 
every form of satanic lust, and is threatening now, unless 
counteracted by Christianity, to demoralize this whole nation, 
to poison the deepest springs of public sentiment, and to sub- 
ject us all to schemes of policy which will cause our children 
to blush over those pages of their country's history that are 
yet to be written. 

All honor, we say, to American commerce for the good it 
has done — for the aid which it has yielded to the cause of phi- 
lanthropy and religion. In the hands of faithful men it has 
made many a wilderness to bloom. Its triumphs, we hope, 
are but just begun, and that a bright career is before it. 
Therefore let it be the prayer of Christians everywhere, that 
our Commerce may be consecrated to Truth, to Justice, and 
Freedom. Let them pray that it may nourish in us all that 
is manly and heroic, that it may impart the moral courage to 
attempt, as well as the power to do great things, that it may 
be the friend and servant, not the idol and god of the people. 



08 Appendix. 



Note G. Page 36. 

GOD AND THE CONSTITUTION. 
A MEMORANDUM OF THE YEAE 1860. 

*'• God and our country'^ is a phrase which has long been 
consecrated as the watchword of the Christian patriot. True 
religion is always consistent with true patriotism. When the 
Jewish people were carried as captives into Babylon, they were 
bidden by the prophet to seek the good of the land which was 
to be their home ; how deeply, then, must they have felt that 
the love of their native land was sanctioned and strengthened 
by their religion! ''If I forget thee, Jerusalem, let my 
right hand forget her cunning,'' was the breathing of a senti- 
ment in which piety and patriotism were united. The prophet 
Jeremiah, who rebuked the evils of his times without the fear 
of courtiers and kings, was denounced as the enemy of his 
country ] but succeeding ages have always pointed to his 
fidelity as the proof of his patriotism. The spurious patriots 
of the day were wont to cry " Our country, right or wrong," 
in a spirit which led them to maintain and defend the wrong 
when once adopted and avowed ; but the prophets of God pro- 
nounced heavy woes on those who called evil good, and sounded 
forth the message, " If ye be willing and obedient ye shall eat 
the good of the land : but if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be 
devoured with the sword, for the mouth of the Lord hath 
spoken it." 

True patriotism is always faithful to that high moral prin- 
ciple without which no nation can prosper, and shrinks from 
crying " Peace, peace," when there can be no peace. And in 
no country where there is an enlightened public opinion, where 
ihere is a Christian conscience, can there be peace if the estab- 



Appendix. 69 



lished Constitution be of such a nature that it can not be inter- 
preted into harmony with the laws of God and the dictates of 
eternal justice. Christianity^ truth, and virtue have all died 
out from among a people who can practically cry — the Consti- 
tution and Godj instead of God and the Constitution. In that 
case Divine Providence ever furnishes a stern commentary on 
the saying of Jesus, " Verily , I say unto you, the first shall be 
the last, and the last first.' ^ 

We have reason to be thankful that in this country we live un- 
der a Constitution so much in unison with the principles of true 
Cbrifitianity. The demands of the slave-power, however, have 
jarred against this harmony. The word slave was intention- 
ally left out of the Constitution by its framers, expecting as 
they did that slavery would come to an end, and that then the 
tenm of the Constitution would be adapted to a state of uni- 
versal liberty. On this point, the expressions of Mr. Webster, 
in his late speech in the Senate, are very clear and explicit. 
He says, '• The eminent men, the most eminent men, and nearly 
all the conspicuous politicians of the South, held the same sen- 
timents, that slavery was an evil, a blight, a blast, a mildew, 
a scourge, and a curse. There are no terms of reprobation of 
slavery so vehement in the North of that day as in the South. 

Then, sir, when this Constitution was framed, this 

was the light in which the convention viewed it. The con- 
vention reflected the judgment and sentiments of the great men 

of the South They thought that slavery could not 

be continued in the country if the importation of slaves were 
made to cease, and therefore they provided that after a cer- 
tain period the im.portation might be prevented by the act of 
the new government. Twenty years was proposed by some 
gentleman, a Northern gentleman, I think, and many of the 

Southern gentlemen opposed it as being too long You 

observe, sir, that the term slave or slavery is not used in the 
Constitution. The Constitution does not require that ^ fugi- 
tive slaves' shall be delivered up. It requires that 'persons 
bound to service in one State and escaping into another shall 
be delivered up.' Mr. Madison opposed the introduction of 



70 Appendix. 



the term slave or slavery into the Constitution ; for, he said, 
that he did not wish to see it recognized by the Constitution 
of the United States of America that there could be property 
in men." Such is the testimony of Mr. Webster, and he 
makes two things very clear: 1, that the spirit of the Consti- 
tution is opposed to slavery ; 2, that the letter of the Constitu- 
tion was intentionally adjusted to a state of liberty, which 
was expected to have prevailed, ere now, over the whole ex- 
tent of the United States. 

If these things be so, if it be true that the spirit of the Con- 
stitution is at war with slavery, that the letter of the Consti- 
tution was purposely framed so as to suit itself to the extinction 
of slavery — an event which the fathers of the Ptepublic sup- 
posed to be nigh at hand — we earnestly put this question to 
any honest man : How does it follow from such premises that 
fidelity to the Constitution now requires a more " stringent 
law'' to facilitate and secure the restoration of '^fugitive 
slaves ?" Do our constitutional obligations require us to do a 
thing, the mere anticipation of which would have been revolt- 
ing to the authors of the Constitution, which they believed 
would never be required, and against the necessity of which 
they supposed themselves to have made adequate provision, by 
the destruction of the slave-trade ? We say, not at all ! The 
Constitution is faithfully observed when it is interpreted and 
carried out according to the views, the intentions, and the 
spirit of those who formed and adopted it. 

The more closely we look at this subject in the light of 
authentic history the more clearly will we see that, as the 
Constitution Contains no provisions specifically adapted to 
secure the restoration of captives into bondage, it designedly 
left the whole matter to be regulated practically by public 
sentiment ; and did this in the firm belief that the public sen- 
timent of the country would extirpate slavery, and would, 
therefore, leave no room for any one to apply its elause re- 
specting '' persons held to service," to ^' men held as prop- 
erty !" Mr. Webster himself has made this as clear as the 
sunlight J and yet, forsooth, we are told that a sense of honor. 



Appendix. 71 



a true fidelity to the Constitution, requires tha,t public senti- 
ment do violence to itself, and pass a law, which, for our day, 
the authors of the Constitution would have pronounced morally 
impossible. Surely, we may exclaim, as did the Hebrew 
prophet unto Egypt — •• Where are they — where are thy wise 
men? they have caused thee to err, even the chief pillars of 
thy tribes !'' 

These views of the question before us may be amply con- 
firmed by the most incontrovertible testimonies ; and standing 
on the rocky grounds which they furnish, we maintain that 
those Senators were right in their position who asserted, that, 
wten the public conscience is against a more stringent law, a 
more stringent law is unconstitutional. If the provisions of 
the Constitution are now found to be ineffectual to secure the 
restoration of slaves to bondage, it is because they were so 
made as ultimately to lose their stringent force. But, then, a 
change has come over the spirit of the South. As Mr. Web- 
ster observes, '• Slavery is not regarded in the South now as 
it was then.''^ And how does he ptccount for this change? 
The answer is, cotion ! To quote ag?an the Massachusetts 
Senator: "The age of cotton became a golden age for our 
Southern brethren !'^ Here we have the case in a few words — 
cotton versus the Constitution — cotton against conscience ! And 
now (O temporal)^ the learned counsel, the legal wisdom, the 
enlightened religion of the North "turn aside like a deceitful 
bow'' in the day of battle, abjure the principles of our fathers, 
and declare to all mankind that high statesmanship demands 
that the Constitution shall not be interpreted by the law of 
conscience, but by the law of the cotton interest ! 

Christian men, friends, and fellow-citizens, this is a plain, 
sober statement of the truth. To this position our political 
leaders have been drifted, and some religious presses, from 
which we should have expected more truthful expositions of 
the matter, have faltered with them, have proclaimed the 
Constitution to be at war with God and justice, and then in 
the sacred names of Christianity and Peace have added, " Let 
the Constitution be supreme !" Believe them not — look at 



72 Appendix. 



the question for you.rselves. Our fathers have not brought 
us into such a predicament. They legislated for us rather 
than themselves They thought that they had saved us from 
such a dilemma. Would he, who. with his eye on the slave 
system, said, " I tremble for my country when I remember 
that God is just- ' — would Jefferson's patriotic coadjutors, who 
avowed a still higher and purer tone of Christian sentiment 
than himself — would the men who signed the Declaration of 
Independence, and passed the ordinance of 1787, and denounced 
the slave-trade as piracy, and announced their purpose by de- 
stroying the slave-trade to destroy the slave system — would 
they have knowingly put a clause in the Constitution which 
would require their sons, in the middle of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, to establish the bulwarks of slavery, and become them- 
selves subservient to the behests of those who advocate the 
perpetual thralldom of an oppressed race, as their darling poli- 
cy ? Never ) never. " This wisdom cometh not from above,'' 
nor from our fathers, nor from the Constitution, but is modern, 
mercantile, corrupting — '• earthly, sensual, and devilish." 
Trample on such an interpretation ; link not your policies 
with those which set the Constitution at variance with Heav- 
en and Humanity, but, carrying out in your generation the 
noble sentiments of the men of '76, let your motto be — "God 
and the Constitution !" 



CHRISTIANITY 



THE TURKISH POWER 



OR, THE BELATION OF 



CHRISTENDOM 



f ^e Ottoman €mpxt. 



ADVEETISEMENT. 



The following Lecture was delivered early in the present year, 
before the Boston Mercantile Association and the Albany Young 
Men's Association. It was written soon after the interchange of 
notes between the Russian and the Turkish governments touching 
the claim of the Emperor Nicholas to the Greek protectorate. The 
author then believed that war was inevitable, and that European 
diplomacy could not avert it. Succeeding events have shown that 
this opinion rested on solid grounds. While the first sheets of this 
volume were passing through the press, it was a matter of gratifi- 
cation to observe that the sentiments expressed. in this Lecture were 
nobly illustrated and confirmed by the pen of Lamartine in his 
*' masterly paper" on " The Relations of Turkey to the European 
Balance of Power," first published in the JVew York Daily Times 
of the 12th .of September. 



CHRISTIANITY AND TURKISH POWER. 



The subject of this lecture has been suggested 
by the leading event of the passing season. For 
several months the attention of the civilized world 
has been turned toward Constantinople. The old 
Queen City of the East has loomed up anew within 
the scope of general observation, and has been, as 
she was wont to be of old, the chief centre of polit- 
ical interest, enfolding in her doubtful destiny the 
cherished hopes of the Moslem races, and the for- 
tunes of Europe. It is a fact still fresh in the 
memory of all of us, that when the report of the 
signal-gun, heralding the newly-arrived steamer, 
reverberated along our shores, every ear was intent 
to catch the first announcement of the news from 
Paris, where it was long an undetermined question 
whether the sovereign ruler of thirty millions 
should be called a president or an emperor ; but 
now the volcanic fires that roll in the depths of 
that great political crater are in comparative re- 
pose ; the scene of the grand European drama of 



78 Okkistianity akd Tukkish Power. 

♦ 

the nineteenth century is removed from the border 
of the Seine to that of the Bosphorus, where the 
royal heir of a power that was once the terror ot 
Christendom asks counsel for his safety, and rallies 
for mortal combat the last energies of a decay- 
ing empire. In the year 1453, his great ancestor, 
Mohammed IL, amid the storm of battle, solemnly 
swore that he would find either a throne or a grave 
in Constantinople ; after a lapse of four centuries, 
in the year 1853, the youthful Abdul Medjid has 
solemnly sworn that he will yield no more to the 
demands of Russian despotism, but that he will 
maintain against the Northern Czar the rights of 
his sovereignty, or be buried beneath its ruins. All 
honor to the brave ! The spectacle is sublime. God 
speed the right ! 

The rise, progress, and present position of the 
Turks in Europe present to us a wide field of ob- 
servation, which deserves to be regarded with niore 
than ordinary interest. To a lecturer it displays an 
aspect that is at once attractive and perilous. The 
attraction lies in the relative importance and the 
practical bearings of the subject itself The peril 
lies in the difficulty of bringing a subject so vast 
and so many-sided within the limits assigned to a 
single discourse, so that it shall have an impress of 
unity, shall stand clearly forth in its own individ- 
uality of character, and be made to subserve the 
purposes of entertainment and utility. Many a lec- 
turer who has attempted a subject requiring histori- 
cal illustration, or has attempted to discourse direct- 
ly on history itself, has felt his mind glowing with 



Chki5tia>;hy am) Tlkkish Power. 79 

warmth that he could not impart/ and has utterly 
failed of his aim because he has forgotten that an 
array of facts, dates, and names, although very 
proper for a school-room, are out of place in a lec- 
ture-room ; that to those who have already studied 
the subject, such an enumeration is tedious, and 
that to others it convej^s scarcely a ray of new light 
or a particle of useful information. It is not an 
agreeable situation in which an audience finds it- 
self when a speaker, whom it is their aim to follow, 
becomes lost from view in the mazes of recondite re- 
search, or swamped in a bog of uncertain speculation. 
It is my wish, however, to exhibit the original es- 
TABLiSETMENT in councction with the present position 
of the Turks in Europe by means of such historical 
lights as I may be able to throw around it, so far as 
they may enliven our conceptions of the real im- 
portance of the present crisis, or aid in forming an 
opinion as to the course of events which is now 
hastening forward to some great consummation 
that shall hereafter be regarded as a memorable 
epoch. With this view, let me ask you to accom- 
pany me in imagination to a distant scene which 
may furnish a stand-point from which to survey 
with advantage the historical landscape that lies 
before us. 

In the spring of the year 1839 it was my fortune 
to pass a few weeks in Constantinople. Our late 
countryman, Mr. Rhodes, was then acting as naval 
constructor to the Sultan, being in that office the 
successor of Henry Eckford, of New YoA. While 
walking one day in the navy yard in company with 



80 Christianity and Turkish Power. 

Mr. Rhodes, my attention was drawn to a youth of 
delicate frame and somewhat languid air, who was 
amusing himself, as boys are wont, in roving about 
among the curious objects of the place, and in witness- 
ing the din and stir of the workmen's operations. It 
was Abdul Medjid, the present reigning Sultan, who 
was then sixteen years of age, and is now, therefore, 
but a little over thirty ; a youthful sovereign certain- 
ly, considering the difficulties with which he is call- 
ed to grapple, the skill, tact, and force of character 
which his emergencies now demand. It was then 
a prevailing sentiment in Constantinople, that if 
the young prince should be deprived of his father 
in -early life, his reign would be a stormy one ; in- 
asmuch as it was expected that the old factious dis- 
cords would break forth afresh, and that Russia 
would embrace the earliest opportunity to find a 
pretext for war, in order to realize the aim of her 
ambition to possess a city of which the Emperor 
Alexander was wont to say, " It is the key of my 
house." 

On the following day I was favored with the 
opportunity of seeing the father of Abdul Medjid, 
the Sultan Mahmoud, who was generally ac- 
knowledged to be the most talented and accom- 
plished sovereign in Europe. At that time he was 
earnestly engaged, by the aid of American skill, in 
enlarging his navy, and was pursuing his object 
'with the ardor of an absorbing passion. On Fri- 
day, the fifth of April, 1839, a large war-ship, 
pierced for 240 guns, one of the largest in the 
world, after having received some repairs, was to 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 81 

be towed from the navy dock into the stream ; and 
the hour was set so that the Sultan might be pres- 
ent on his return from the mosque to the palace. 
Mr. Rhodes kindly informed us of the appointment, 
■and placed us in a favorable situation for witness- 
ing the spectacle. At one o'^clock, several boats 
filled with Turkish ofiicers were seen gliding rapid- 
ly toward the dock; and soon afterward the Sultan 
appeared in his state-barge, seated on a cushion 
beneath a gorgeous silk umbrella which was held 
over him by his attendants. The barge itself was 
elegantly constructed on the model of a Turkish 
caic, about one hundred and twenty feet in length, 
glittering with burnished gold, and impelled by 
forty oarsmen of distinguished skill, whose noble 
forms were shown to great advantage by their 
beautiful costume. As the barge reached its des- 
tination, the sovereign arose, stepped forward with 
a quick and graceful movement, and took his posi- 
tion with his retinue under a canopy of blue silk 
spread over the pavement of the dock-yard. His 
form and mien seemed fully to realize one's finest 
conception of embodied majesty. He wore a red 
cap fringed with blue, a blue cloak, and white 
gloves. He walked about near the ship, conversed 
respecting her in an animated manner, and seemed 
to feel a deep interest in the occasion; His fea- 
tures fully expressed a strongly-marked character. 
They were regularly formed. His large, black, 
piercing eye beneath a finely arched brow — his 
mouth indicative of persuasiveness and firmness, 
his complexion somewhat pale, yet apparently 



82 Christianity and Turkish Power. 

bearing the hue of health, his dark, flowing beard 
sweeping his breast, in unison with a grand and 
well-proportioned frame befitting royalty, consti- 
tuted an image of manly beauty that could proudly 
endure the scrutiny of the rudest or the most culti- 
vated taste. 

In the society of my friend, Hon. S. G. Arnold, 
of Rhode Island, together with a group of travelers 
and residents, an hour had been passed in waiting 
for his arrival, during which time the conversation 
turned on the eventful history of this extraordinary 
man. From his earlier years he had braved the 
storms of adversity. While yet an infant, he had 
been bereaved of his father, the Sultan Abdul 
Hamid, who died in the year 1788, and was suc- 
ceeded by Selim, cousin of Mahmoud, the oldest 
male heir to the throne. Selim is distinguished in 
history as the first Sultan who had a clear concep- 
tion of the absolute necessity of adjusting the polit- 
ical and social state of Turkey into harmony with 
the progressive spirit of the age. He projected a 
plan of reform ; but with his clear intellect, nature 
had not endowed him with the nerve and force of 
will essential to executive genius. The Janizaries 
ruled in Constantinople, just as the old Praetorian 
Guard once ruled in Rome, when it made emperors 
mere puppets to carry out its decrees. As soon as 
this proud, rude, military order caught a glimpse 
of Selim's plans of reform, they deposed him, and 
elevated the only brother of Mahmoud, Mustapha 
lY., whose weak and pliant character furnished a 
guarantee of their supremacy. This was accom- 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 83 

plished in the year 1807, when the old Janizary 
power won its last triumph. 

From this era the course of events became pre- 
cipitous. On the banks of the Danube there was 
then residing the ruler of a province who stood first 
in rank among the military chiefs of the empire. 
This was another Mustapha, surnamed Bairactar, 
or standard-bearer, the Pacha of Rudschuk. He 
resolved that Selim should be restored to his throne, 
and the Janizaries subjected or destroyed. He 
marched with an army of 40,000 men, chiefly Al- 
banians, upon Constantinople, and by a well-con- 
certed movement came suddenly thundering against 
the gates of the Seraglio, where the deposed mon- 
arch was confined. He boldly forced his waj^, and 
having reached the third gate, demanded the ap- 
pearance of Selim, when the eunuchs of Mustapha 
threw the corpse of Selim before him, saying, " Be- 
hold the Sultan whom ye seek." Bairactar, moved 
with grief, threw himself on the corpse with loud 
and bitter lamentations, until he was reminded that 
it was then no time for tears, but for vengeance. 
He rushed forward with his men into the presence- 
chamber of Mustapha, whom he found sitting on his 
throne, as on a gala day, surrounded with his high 
officers of state. The victorious rebel, far from 
being overawed, dragged Mustapha from his impe- 
rial seat, saying, ''What dost thou there? yield thy 
place to a worthier." That hour ended the brief 
reign of Mustapha, and on that night the cannon 
of the Seraglio announced to Constantinople the 
enthronement of his brother Mahmoud. 



84 Christianity and Turkish Power. 

But Mahmoud himself had narrowly escaped a 
violent death by fratricidal hands. Amid the ex- 
citing scenes of the day it had occurred to Musta- 
pha that*by the murder of his brother Mahmoud he 
would be himself the last and only prince of the 
Ottoman race ; that thus his person would be ren- 
dered inviolable, inasmuch as the Turk, who has no 
reverence for jpersons^ has the most profound relig- 
ious reverence for the sacred dynasty. Eager to 
possess himself of such '' a charmed life," he gave 
orders for the execution of his brother; but the 
doomed prince was nowhere to be found : a faith- 
ful slave had concealed him in the furnace of a 
bath ; his hiding-place was not discovered, and 
after the lapse of a few hours he arose from his 
miserable prison to an ancestral throne which he 
was destined to establish on new and firmer foun- 
dations. Ere long the counselors of Mahmoud 
put Mustapha to death ; and thus Mahmoud him- 
self, as the sole representative of the Ottoman race, 
was endowed with that ''charmed life" which 
threw its potent spell over the millions of his sub- 
jects, and inspired him with courage to dare the 
worst in carrjnng out that line of policy to which 
the amiable Selim had been made a sacrifice. 

The first great achievement of Mahmoud was the 
reduction of the pachas, who ruled the provinces, 
into settled and harmonious relations with his im- 
perial throne. They had aimed at a kind of reck- 
less independency, and had reigned over their ter- 
ritories with a savage despotism, somewhat like the 
feudal lords of France in the middle ages. Devoid 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 85 

of public spirit, they acted on the most narrow 
and selfish maxims, and their mutual jealousies 
weakened the whole fabric of the empire. He 
marked out, more clearly than had been done be- 
fore, the bounds of their authority, and brought 
them into a state of closer dependence on the cen- 
tral government. Badly as the pachalics have 
always been managed, the changes which he intro- 
duced into their administration were real improve- 
ments. 

He next approached the dread alternative that 
now lay directly before him ; the thorough Teform- 
ation^ or rather extirpation of that Janizary power 
which had for ages ruled and now threatened to ruin 
all the interests of the empire. On account of the 
sanguinary issue of the struggle, his treatment of 
them has been regarded by some as a savage spe- 
cimen of the worst features of Oriental despotism. 
We can not assent to the justice of the accusation. 
Mild measures were urged in earnest, and urged in 
vain. They drew down destruction on themselves. 
Let us look at his position in the light of obvious 
facts. 

While that consecrated military order opposed 
every improvement as a detestable innovation, the 
Sultan Mahmoud saw his whole military system 
becoming, by its relative weakness, the jeer and 
mock of his enemies. He saw his best troops cut 
down by an armed rabble in Greece, although that 
same victorious rabble fled in terror before the 
disciplined troops of his own Egyptian viceroy. 
That fact spoke volumes. The reformation or 



86 Christianity and Turkish Power. 

abolition of the Janizaries was resolved upon. De- 
lay would be folly ; the momentous hour had come. 
The FIRST step was taken in 1826, by increasing his 
artillerists, or topegees^ to the number of 30,000 men. 
Trained to the exercise of guns under the best tu- 
ition of Europe, these troops, as might have been 
expected, were hated by the Janizaries, and they 
hated the Janizaries in return. Having gained an 
important point in the establishment of a reliable 
body of troops educated in European discipline, 
Mahmoud urged on his reform of the fierce and 
haughty Janizaries. 

His SECOND step was an order that a limited num- 
ber of soldiers should be selected from each of their 
regiments to be drilled, armed, and equipped in 
the European method. The most intelligent and 
effective officers were gamed over by the Sultan. 
The men were pleased at first with the prospect of 
enlarged pay ; but w^hen the attempt w^as made ac- 
tually to carry out the experiment of exchanging 
the Janizary's loose slipper for strong leather shoes, 
his fiowing cliasKkeens that had floated balloon-like 
around his person for woolen trow^sers scissored 
out with reference to efiective movement on the 
battle-field, his ample and gaudy jubbee and hay- 
neesh for a tight-bodied blue jacket hooked closely 
in front, the old-fashioned turban, to his eye so pic- 
turesque and to his head so comfortable, for the 
closely fitted and rimless red cap with its blue tas- 
sel dangling from its crown, when in addition to all 
this he was called upmi to stand in the rauks, to 
face about, to march, to handle his arms accord ini;^ 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 87 

to the most approved tactics of the Franks, it seem- 
ed to him that the cup of his humiliation overflow- 
ed ; the charm of life was gone, and death itself 
seemed better than such disgrace. Bigotry is con- 
tagious, blind, relentless. In any age, when that 
kind of conservatism which has been so elegantly 
designated on the floor of our national senate as 
" Old Fogyism," becomes a thoroughly organized 
institution, having, as has been aptly said, " its eyes 
in its hind-head instead of its fore-head," when it is 
armed with a sense of dignity, the pride of power, 
and the sanctions of conscience, a radical reforma- 
tion is nearly impossible ; it is " m thick-skinned 
monster that no weapon can penetrate and no dis- 
cipline can tame." It was so in the case before us. 
The untamed passions of these men which had been 
for a moment soothed, flamed up anew. The Jani- 
zaries began again, as they had been wont, to mur- 
der every one suspected of being friendly to re- 
form, to fire their dwellings, and to exult over the 
ashes of peaceful habitations as the memorials of 
triumph. But the savage ferocity that for more 
than four hundred years Jiad swept oil every obsta- 
cle in its way was now encountered by a sovereign 
whom danger could not intimidate, and who was 
equal to any emergency. To his clear and com- 
prehensive glance it was evident that the crisis of 
his destiny had arrived, and he had too much great- 
ness of soul to quail before it. He saw that he must 
introduce into his empire the elements of progress, 
that he must infuse into it th6se new energies which 
would enable it to keep pace with the advancement 



88 Christianity and Turkish Power. 



of society in the nineteenth century, or that it must 
gravitate speedily into an abyss of ruin. To that 
necessary advancement this old military organiza- 
tion had opposed itself in resolute desperation, and 
he or it must perish. 

The THiRD step in the execution of his plan im- 
mediately followed. That was an order to the 
whole body of artillerists to assemble in the garden 
of the Seraglio. The sacred standard of the Prophet, 
which is never displaye dexcept in cases of great 
emergency, was there unfurled, and all his faithful 
followers were bidden to rally around it. The ap- 
peal was answered with a loyal spirit, and now, for 
the first time, the heart of Mahmoud was elate with 
the assurance of victory. 

The FOURTH act of this drama soon disclosed itself 
with a tragic aspect. The rebellious Janizaries 
were summoned to appear before the banner of the 
Prophet as a sign of submission. They refused to 
obey. Thrice was the summons repeated. They 
not only refused obedience, but put to death the 
grand vizier, and two other high officers of the 
crown who had borne the royal mandate. All 
hope of treating with this array of ruthless barba- 
rism was nov/ abandoned ; the final order was given 
to the artillerists to march upon them ; and as soon 
as they were driven into their barracks, a destruc- 
tive fire of bomb-shells and cannon-balls was poured 
in upon them. Those who escaped from the burn- 
ing barracks were smitten down by shot or sword, 
without stint or quarter. The same course was 
followed up throughout the provinces, so that in a 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 89 

few weeks not a Janizary was left to rehearse the 
story ; the order was utterly destroyed ; the last 
spark of its life was trodden out in the remotest 
corner of the land, and from that day Turkey, hav- 
ing abjured the spirit of her old Moslem policy, 
arose to make good her claim to an honorable posi- 
tion in the realm of European civilization. 

The hopes that were awakened by this signal 
movement were not disappointed. Under the fos- 
tering care of Mahmoud the cultivation of literature 
was encouraged ; the physical resources of the coun-- 
try were gradually developed; common schools and 
schools of agriculture were established ; the latest 
improvements in naval architecture were adopted 
under the eye of a naval constructor from New 
York, and men of genius from France, Germany, 
Italy, and England found a welcome at Constanti- 
nople. Above all, in spite of the intolerant spirit 
that had been the growth of ages throughout the 
Mohammedan world. Religious Liberty, which has 
reared its noblest trophies on our own soil. Relig- 
ious Liberty, without which civil liberty can not 
exist, without which life itself to every high-souled 
man is a moral martyrdom, without which exist- 
ence itself is but a form without power ; Religious 
Liberty, after having been driven from the nations 
of Europe, that professed to glory in the banner of 
the Cross, found an asylum under the folds of the 
Crescent, where the exiles of every land were per- 
mitted to enjoy repose and safety. It is this one 
feature of the reformed Turkish policy that puts to 
shame the oppressive systems of Russia, Austria, 



90 Christianity and Turkish Power. 

and all southern Europe, which awakens a respon- 
sive sympathy in the breasts of American freemen, 
and touches a chord that vibrates throughout the 
whole realm of civilized and Christianized human- 
ity. To this sentiment Turkey has continued faith- 
ful. She has protected those American missionaries 
and teachers whom surrounding nations would have 
persecuted ; she has thrown the shield of her power 
over the brave Kossuth and his companions in the 
hour of peril, despite the frowns and threats of her 
allies and her enemies ; and for these deeds of 
moral heroism America stretches out her hand to 
the Moslem in the spirit of brotherhood, and bids 
him a God-speed in his career of magnanimity, 
charity, and honor. 

And now, having set before us the modern posi- 
tion which Turkey has assumed in the scale of 
nations, it may be well briefly to trace the rise, 
growth, and fortunes, from its origin to its establish- 
ment in Europe, of a national power which has 
played so conspicuous a part in the affairs of the 
transatlantic world. 

It seems at times, from various hints and allusions, 
to be a popular impression that the Turks acquired 
their firm footing in Europe in the year 1453, by the 
conquest of Constantinople. I know not how to ac- 
count for such an impression, unless it be owing to 
the influence of such vague outlines of history as 
are found in school compends, and works of similar 
character. Some time since I observed in an inter- 
esting volume, from the pen of an American travel- 
er, a statement to this effect. Writing of the Bos- 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 91 

phorus he says, " It is full of historic interest, for 
it has witnessed the assembled armies of Darius, 
the celebrated retreat of Xenophon, the armed mob 
of phrensied crusaders rushing by thousands to the 
Holy Land, and finally the desperate legions of 
Mohammed II., making at this spot his victorious 
entry into Europe." It is a pity to spoil a sentence 
so well balanced and so finely turned ; but the writer 
could hardly have been aware that the Turks had 
obtained a firm establishment in Europe nearly a 
century before Mohammed's conquest of Constan- 
tinople. That fierce warrior did not cross the Bos- 
phorus from Asia, but set out upon his campaign 
against the Greek capital from Adrianople, which 
was then the European capital of the Turks. A few 
minutes perhaps may not be misspent in tracing 
the origin and development of this singular nation, 
which has of late displayed a vitality astonishing to 
both friends and foes. 

The decline of the Tartar power in Asia, upheld 
as it had been by the house of Zinghis Khan, left 
an open field for the growth of the Ottoman 
dynasty. 

Its first development was in the conquest of 
Bithynia by the Caliph Othman, whose father, 
Orthogrul, had emigrated from Persia as the head 
of a nomadic tribe containing four hundred fami- 
lies. The indolence of the Greek emperor at Con- 
stantinople enabled Othman to establish a kingdom 
in Bithynia. Prusa fell before the arms of Orchan, 
son of Othman, 1326, and furnished the first occa- 
sion, by means of its architecture, baths, and lux- 



92 Cheistianity and Turkish Power. 

uries, to induce the Turks to resign their olden 
style of camp-life, and acknowledge the benefits of 
a civilizing culture. Prusa became a Turkish cap- 
ital, adorned by its grand mosque, and its university 
attracting students from Persia and Arabia. Under 
the reign of Orchan the dominion of the Turks', not 
yet worthy the name of an empire, reached the 
shores of the Bosphorus and Hellespont on the 
Asiatic side, and thus stood face to face with the 
empire of the Greeks. Although the name of 
Orchan is now enrolled next to Othman, as the 
second on the list of Turkish Sultans, yet he claim- 
ed for himself no higher title than that of Emir ; 
but he was the leading conqueror of his time, and 
by the success of his arms Asia Minor, which 
had once owned the sway of Christian rulers, 
now hailed the establishment of a new Moslem 
power. 

The first entrance of the Turks into Europe was 
solicited hy the Europeans themselves. In the civil 
wars that raged at the period of which we are 
speaking between the two great factions of the 
Greek court of Constantinople, headed by the elder 
and the younger Andronicus, each party sought 
against the other the assistance of the Turks from 
the opposite Asiatic coast ; and at last, John Can- 
tacuzene, who had been the guardian of the younger 
Andronicus, and regent of the empire, was so situated 
as to be obliged to seize the throne himself, or per- 
ish by the hands of factious enemies. Cantacuzene 
was a keen diplomatist; he won the favor of the 
Turkish prince of Bithynia ; and after he had as- 



Christianity and Turkish Powke. 93 

sumed the imperial purple, yielded his daughter 
Theodora as the bride of Orchan, who allowed her 
to retain her national religion— ^such as it was — in 
the harem of Boursa. About the year ISoS, Soli- 
man, son of Orchan, recrossed the Bosphorus with 
a troop of 10,000 horse, as the friend and ally of 
the Greek emperor. The Turk achieved his object, 
rendered most valuable service, and, having the 
power, asserted the right to hold the fortresses of 
Thrace, and to establish a strong colony at Galli- 
poli, the key of the Hellespont. It was an example 
of " the annexation of territory," quite as honorable 
as any that has been furnished in our times by the 
English government in India ; and the cabinet of 
Washington, in its negotiations with Mexico, never 
followed more faithfully the beck of " manifest des- 
tiny." When John Cantacuzene resolved to abdi- 
cate the throne of Constantinople in favor of John 
Palaeologus, an hereditary" sovereign, it was his 
last advice to the factious and weakened Greeks 
to beware of rousing against themselves, by open 
3-esistance, the arms of the disciplined and enthu- 
siastic Moslems. 

Ere long the news of the death of Orchan was 
joyously received by the Greeks, who soon learn- 
ed, however, that the Turkish power was not con- 
centrated in a single leader, but that it lay in the 
courage, union, and energy of the nation. Orchan 
was succeeded by his son Murad, or Amurath I., 
who proceeded to enlarge the European heritage 
that he had received from his father's hands, and 
soon extended it from the Hellespont to Mount 



94: Christianity and Turkish Power. 

Hsemus, from the Danube to the Adriatic. The 
wild tribes of Bulgaria, Servia, Bosnia acknowl- 
edged his sovereignty ; and, although Amurath re- 
frained from attacking Constantinople, we may 
learn much as to the relations of the parties from 
the one significant fact that the emperor, John 
Palaeologus, and his four sons, deemed it expedient 
to obey the Turkish monarch's summons to attend 
his court and camp. He chose Adrianople as his 
European capital; and thus nearly a century be- 
fore the fall of Constantinople, that proud and 
queenly city saw herself completely surrounded by 
the ensigns of Moslem power, and in relation to 
Christian Europe placed in a state of forlorn and 
hopeless insulation. During the reign of Amu- - 
rath, from 1360 to 1389, the course of events had 
drifted to this portentous issue. 

And here we must notice, for a moment, the rise 
of that Janizary power which was organized by 
Amurath, and, as we have seen, abolished twenty- 
eight years ago by the late Mahmoud. It is worthy 
of remark that this order was not composed orig- 
inally of Turkish soldiers, but of young Christian 
captives, selected for symmetry of form, strength, 
and valor. They were taken from the conquered 
provinces, as well as levied from Christian vessels 
that passed by Gallipoli on the Hellespont ; they 
were educated and disciplined for this specific pur- 
pose ; and when assembled in martial array, were 
consecrated and named by an eminent Turkish 
dervish, Al-Hadge Bectash, with fitting ceremony. 
Having cut off the sleeve of his coarse linen tunic, 



CHRISTIAiTITY AND TuRKISH PoWER. 95 



he placed it on the head of the Aga, as the rep- 
resentative of the wiiole corps, and then pro- 
nounced this solemn benediction: ''Let them be 
called yeni-seri (or new soldiers) ; may their coun- 
tenance be ever bright, their hand victorious, their 
sword keen ! May their spear always hang over 
the heads of their enemies, and wheresoever they 
go, may they return witli a lohite face^ The 
benediction was a prophecy which was literally 
fulfilled. At that time no prince of Christendom 
maintained a body of infantry in regular pay as 
well as daily discipline ; and it is no wonder, there- 
fore, that throughout Europe the name of Jani- 
zary was pronounced with respect, that it inspired 
universal terror after the last league of the Scla- 
vonian tribes had been crushed in the battle of 
Cossova. 

As Amurath was walking over that battle-field 
flushed with victory, he called the attention of his 
grand vizier to the fact that a large proportion of 
the soldiery of the fallen Christian army were 
beardless youth. '* Had they been older, they 
would have been wiser," said the minister, and 
would not have ventured to oppose your arms." 
At that moment a Servian soldier, who was lying 
among the slain, sprang forth and with a dextrous 
stroke ended the life of Amurath. 

But by the death of that brave prince the rising 
Turkish power received not the slightest shock. 
He was immediately succeeded by his son Bajazet, 
who was honored with the soubriquet of Ilderim, 
or Lightning, on account of the fiery energy of his 



96 Christianity and Turkish Power. 



character. He carried forward the plans of his 
father with a mighty hand throughout the most of 
his reign, from 1389 to 1403, a period of fourteen 
years. He extended his territories, not only in 
Asia, but in Europe. He crossed the Danube, sub- 
dued Moldavia,"^ passed the gates of Thermopylae, 
and added Greece to his dominions. At Gallipoli 
his galleys commanded the Hellespont. Thus the 
great crisis of Europe in that century was hasten- 
ed. He directed his march against Sigismund, king 
of Hungary, who, being related to several European 
monarchs, his cause became the cause of Europe. 
France and Germany were at last aroused ; and 
at Nicopolis, the confederate army of the Chris- 
tians, numbering 100,000 men, were met and de- 
feated by Bajazet. The slaughter was immense. 
The greater part of that army, who had boasted 
that if the sky should fall they could support it 
on their lances, were slain upon the field or forced 
to find a sepulchre beneath the waves of the 
Danube. For Christian Europe there seemed to 
be no help, and it is not easy for us to conceive 
of the awful dread which paralyzed the West- 
ern nations when Bajazet, with savage pride, de- 
clared that he would march to Rome, and would 
feed his horse with a bushel of oats from the 
altar of St. Peter. No wonder that Constanti- 
nople trembled ; but the progress of the conquer- 
or was checked, not by arms, but hj a terrible 
fit of the gout in his hands and feet. Gibbon cool- 



* See Appendix A, p. 111. 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 97 

ly remarks on that fact, that '' Tlie disorders of tlie 
moral are sometimes corrected by those of the 
physical world, and an acrimonious humor falling 
on a single fibre of one man, may prevent or sus- 
pend the misery of nations." 

Nevertheless, it was the purpose of Bajazet to 
seize the old capital of the Caesars, which now rep- 
resented the Roman empire in the East, although 
its territory was contracted into a corner of Thrace, 
not more than fifty miles in length by thirty in 
breadth. The Ottoman prince spoke of the prize 
as already his own, and was preparing himself to 
possess it, when a truce of ten years was purchased 
by an annual tribute of 30,000 thousand crowns of 
gold, and the consent of the timid emperor, John 
Palaeologus, that Bajazet should establish a Turk- 
ish cadi and a royal mosque in that grand old me- 
tropolis of Eastern Christendom. The truce was 
ere long suspended, and, as it has been well said, 
''The savage would have devoured his prey had he 
not been overthrown by another savage stronger 
than himself." On the plains of Angora, Bajazet, 
at the head of 400,000 men, yielded to the superior 
genius of Timour, or Tamerlane the Tartar. Nine 
months after that defeat the Ottoman monarch died 
of apoplexy at Antioch, in Pisidia, and was con- 
veyed with royal pomp to his own mausoleum at 
Boursa. 

Constantinople was now threatened by the Tar- 
tar power; but Timour was diverted from its easy 
conquest by his grand project of invading China, 
in order to avenge the expulsion of the house of 



98 Christianity xVnb Turkish Power. 

Zhinghis Khan ; when in the vicinity of Otrar, a 
sudden fever, aggravated it is said by the excessive 
nse of iced water, removed the monster-scourge 
from the face of the earth. His power perished 
with him ; it had swept over the world like the 
blast of a sirocco, but it left no permanent institu- 
tions, while the Ottoman dynasty bent like a young 
sapling beneath the storm, stood erect again in the 
vigor of a healthy life, and in the pride of inherent 
strength. 

But now^ throughout Europe, for a quarter of a 
century at least, there was a respite from the dread 
of Turkish invasion. The two great Moslem pow- 
ers of the earth had come into conflict with each 
other. The Mogul defeated, dishonored, and- crip- 
pled the Turk, and then passed away. Such a 
combination of events no human sagacity could 
have anticipated ; and that was the favorable op- 
portunity tor the nations of Christian Europe to 
have arisen in concert, and to have expelled the 
Asiatic hordes to their native home. IsTo warlike 
enterprise could have been more easily achieved, 
and to any one who cahnly surveys the scenes of 
history, the most remarkable feature in the condi- 
tion of Europe in the early part of the fifteenth 
century was the disgraceful apathy which allow^ed ■ 
this propitious period to pass away without one 
united eflort to rescue the choicest lands of Chris- 
tendom from the grasp of the invader. So far from 
such an attempt being made, the Greek and Latin 
churches were fighting theological battles, anathe- 
matizing each other, and fostering those factious 



Christianity and Tukkish Powek. 99 

animosities which bhist all public spirit, all mag- 
nanimous sentiment, and thoroughly consume the 
moral life of nations. A people who can make no 
sacrifice of mutual jealousies for the sake of free- 
dom deserve to be enslaved ; and in a degenerate 
age like that, so mean, so debased, so treacherous 
to the higher interests of civilization and human- 
ity, European society, we may be assured, had not 
much to lose by the advance of the Moslem power, 
but very much to gain by the rough schooling of 
adversity. 

In the.liglit of these truths a student of history 
may see in the ultimate fall of Constantinople the ret- 
ributions of a righteous Providence, and discern the 
workings of those eternal moral laws that enfold all 
national destinies. When the grand vizier of Ba- 
jazet advised his sovereign to delay his attack on 
that queenly capital, a great principle lay at the 
basis of his counsel. He saw that religious feuds 
engender weakness — as they always must where 
church and state are united in one political system 
— that by the natural law of deterioration the 
Christian factions would consume each other's 
strength, and that then the prize would be pos- 
sessed without an effort. The pith and substance 
of his advice might be fairly put into a phrase 
of Napoleon on a certain occasion: ''When the 
pear is ripe it will fall into my hands." In the 
year 1422, Amurath II., grandson of Bajazet, im- 
patient of this ripening process, led 200,000 men 
against Constantinople ; after his first repulse a do- 
mestic revolt at Boursa called him awav into Asia. 



100 Christianity and Turkish Powei^. 

Bat in 1444 that same Amurath stood at the head of 
60,000 men on the field of Yarna to encounter the 
Hungarians under King Ladislaus, who, yielding 
to the advice of Julian, cardinal legate of Rome, 
had violated a treaty sanctioned by the most solemn 
oaths ; and vp^hen a copy of it, as a monument of 
Christian perfidy was displayed in sight of the con- 
tending hosts, the Turkish Sultan lifted his eyes 
and hands to heaven, and called aloud on '' the 
prophet Jesus himself to avenge the mockery of 
his name and his religion." In spite of Hungarian 
bravery, which broke the Turkish wings, the tide 
of battle was turned by the sturdy phalanx of the 
Janizaries, and the pride and flower of Eastern 
Europe was crushed on that day beneath the tramp 
of Moslem infantry."^ 

"The pear" was now nearly ''ripe." It was 
left by Amurath, who was more pleased with the 
quiet of cloister life than with the cares of the 
court and camp, to fall into the hands of his son 
Mohammed IL, who achieved the final and endur- 
ing conquest in the spring of the year 1453. 

The character and education of Mohammed 
qualified him well for the wants of his times, con- 
sidered from a Moslem point of view. Twice dur- 
ing his boyhood he had acted as regent during his 
father's temporary abdication, and he commenced 
his reign at twenty-one years of age. He was able 
to converse in Arabic, Hebrew, Persian, Latin, 
and Greek, and seems to have possessed all the 

* See Appendix B, p. 118. 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 101 



qualities adapted to command the admiration of 
his countrymen with a single exception. That ex- 
ception was the lack of a sincerely orthodox enthu- 
siasm in behalf of the Mussulman faith ; but he 
always observed a convenient distinction J^etween 
his private sentiments as a man and his avowed 
religion as a prince. He was a keen diplomatist, 
gifted with an elegant address, disposed to act on 
the modern philosophical maxim of Eochefoucault, 
that speech is a faculty given to man for the pur- 
pose of 'oailing thought. He was a consummate 
politician as well as an able warrior, combining an 
intense devotion to sensual pleasure with the love 
of elegant literature and of martial glory. 

The first step in the plan of action for the con- 
quest of the capital was taken in 1452, by gather- 
ing materials of wood, stone, and lime from the 
forests of Nicomedia, the quarries of Anatolia, and 
the kilns of Cataphrygia, for the erection of a for- 
tress at Ausomaton, five miles from Constanti- 
nople, on the European side of the Bosphorus, 
just opposite, to a fortress which Amurath, his 
father, had erected on the Asiatic side. In vain 
did Constajitine, the last Greek emperor, remon- 
strate against this proceeding. Mohammed replied 
to the Greek ambassador, "When my father tri- 
umphed on the field of Yarna, he vowed, to build a 
fort on the western shore, and that vow I am bound 
to accomplish." It was accomplished, and a tribute 
was levied on every Christian vessel that afterward 
passed those straits. 

The winter in which the year 1453 began was 



102 Christianity and Turkish Power. 

spent by Mohammed in the palace of Adrianople. 
But the siege of the Greek metropolis occupied his 
thoughts by day and haunted his dreams by night. 
Topographical drawings of the city and its en- 
virons, of the proper places on which to erect a 
battery, spring a mine, or lift scaling-ladder, to- 
gether with the consultations of his friends, en- 
grossed all the energies of his nature. Even the 
science of the Christians was pressed into his ser- 
vice, and at Adrianople a foundery was built under 
the direction of a Dacian or Hungarian machinist, 
for the casting of cannon, which proved to be supe- 
rior to any ordnance of the Greeks. 

After a winter of feverish anxiety, operations 
were begun with vigor in the opening spring, and 
a siege of forty days decided the fate of Constan- 
tinople. Five ships from the Grecian isles, from 
Sicily and the Morea, was all the succor that Chris- 
tendom afforded to the devoted city ! But the 
courage of desperation is terrible, and the resist- 
ance of Constantino and his heroic band astonished 
both friends and foes. For a moment Mohammed 
was confounded. But his genius triumphed. The 
city was inaccessible to his galleys on the side of 
the Bosphorus, but by means of a plank-road, be- 
smeared with the fat of sheep and oxen, sixty gal- 
leys and brigantines were carried around the city 
on rollers, a distance of two miles,*^ and launched 
in the inner harbor of Golden Horn. 

It was on the evening of the 27th of May that 



See Appendix C, p. 120. 



Christianity and Tukkish Power 103 

Mohammed assembled his officers, announced his 
final orders, and promised rewards to successful 
valor. About the same time Constantine address- 
ed his officers in that last speech which has been 
called the funeral oration of the Roman empire. 
Early on the 29th the assault of the Turks was 
commenced, and after eight hours of hard fighting 
Mohammed passed through the gate of St. Romanus 
with a splendid retinue in all the pride of triumph ; 
and in the evening, as he walked through the deso- 
late palace of the Csesars, was heard to repeat two 
lines of a Persian poet expressive of the mutability 
of human fortunes : 

*' The spider hath woven his web in the palace of power, 
And the owl hath sung her watch-song on Afrasiab's tower." 

From that memorable day Adrianople, the Euro- 
pean, and Boursa, the Asiatic seat of Ottoman 
sway, sank into mere provincial towns, and what 
was once the chief city of Christendom became 
the home of a royal power which then shook the 
world, but now crouches at the feet of Christian 
thrones to beg protection from the grasp of the 
Northern Czar. 

And now, within a few months past, while the 
Turkish empire was sustaining peaceful relations 
to Europe, we have seen the autocrat of the NortlT 
stepping forth from his place in the character of an 
imperial agitator, and urging upon the Sublime 
Porte a demand which can not be admitted with- 
out a sacrrifice of dignity, of right, and of security. 
Impelled by a spirit of ambition which runs in the 



104 Christianity akd Turkish Power. 



blood of the royal family of Russia, he has assumed 
to be the protector of the religious liberties of the 
Greeks ; and has required of the Divan a formal 
recognition of his political right to that dangerous 
relation. They needed no such protection ; they 
asked none. Just as if the Emperor of Austria 
should assume to be the protector of the rights of 
the Catholics, and should demand of our govern- 
ment that there should be given to him a special 
guarantee that the religious privileges which they 
have enjoyed ''- ah miUquo''' — to cite the phrase of 
Prince Menschikoff — " be secured them forever, on 
the basis of the ^statu quo at present existing." 
Would not the demand be resented as an insult? 
Ay ; the defiant spirit that gleamed in the eyes, 
warmed the hearts, and nerved the hands of Cap- 
tain Ingraham and his gallant crew in the harbor 
of Smyrna, would thrill through the nation from 
Maine to California, and would send back a short- 
er answer than would consist with diplomatic 
courtesy. 

Now it has been said by some, that enlightened 
and enlarged views of the future would naturally 
turn the tide of sympathy in Christian America on 
the side of the policy of Russia, inasmuch as un- 
der her fostering care the Christian Greeks would 
\)ecome the dominant power of the East, and would 
overspread the ruins of a declining Moslem empire 
with the bloom and culture of a true Christian 
civilization. 

But let us beware of these specious reasonings. 
Let us look beneath the surface. What is the 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 106 

primary and supreme aim of E-ussia ? Tlie lights 
of history and observation enforce on us the con- 
viction that she esteems it to be her peculiar mis- 
sion, as the conservator of the peace of nations, to 
crush out the last spark of life in the democratic 
element of the Old World. She has baffled all the 
hopes of republicanism, inspired by the revolu- 
tions of 1848 ; she has arrayed her power on the 
fields of Hungary against the best and bravest 
champions of constitutional liberty that ever trod 
upon an European soil, and has cherished in her 
heart a deadly grudge against Abdul Medjid be- 
cause he dared to ofi'er an asylum to those martyrs 
of freedom who were driven into exile from their 
native lands. As the Emperor Nicholas has said to 
more than one American traveler, he believes that 
there are " only two kinds of strong government in 
the world, the government of the people and the 
government of an absolute monarch ;" and the 
more clearly he perceives the power of democracy 
in the New World, the more firmly does he resolve 
to resist its triumphs in the Old. His menaces 
against Turkey, we may be assured, are not called 
forth by any acts on her part to control the relig- 
ious liberties of her Greek subjects ; but it is her 
sympathy with freedom, her magnanimous policy 
of civil and social progress, her supreme desire to 
press onward in that grand march of improve- 
ment on which she has already entered in har- 
mony with the spirit of the age, that consti- 
tute "the head and front of her offense" in the 
eye of a despotism which in the name of " di- 



106 Christianity and Turkish Power. 

vine right" exults over the fallen fortunes of hu- 
manity. 

Yes ! this is the sum and substance of the story 
which explains the movements of Russia at the 
close of the year 1853. Let us look at the matter 
a little more closely. Most of us are, doubtless, 
familiar with a conversation of Napoleon, reported 
by O'Meara, in which the French emperor uttered 
the prediction, that Turkey would, in the natural 
course of events, in due time fall into the hands 
of Russia. ''The only hypothesis," he said, "on 
which France and England would ever unite 
would be for the prevention of that issue ; but 
even that union could not ultimatelj^ prevent it." 
This prediction has made a deep impression on the 
minds of multitudes. But there is one short sen- 
tence in that conversation v:^hich states the alleged 
FACT on which the prediction is based. The sen- 
tence is this : ''The greater part of the people in 
Turkey are Greeks, who, you may say, are Rus- 
sians." Time was when this sentence contained 
the truthful statement of a fact, and a fact which 
was the germ of a prophecy. But it is a fact no 
more. The Greeks, long schooled in adversity, are 
now the rising nation of the East ; but in propor- 
tion as intelligence becomes diffused among them, 
they exhibit a, gradual change of sentiment, aspire 
to a state of higher nationality, and express a strong 
antipathy to Russian rule. The hosts of youth 
who resort to Athens and other Europeans capitals 
for education, carry back to their homes ideas of 
freedom and progress that work their way like 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 107 

leaven through the popular masses. From his icy 
and inaccessible seclusion the Northern emperor 
watches every flitting shadow on the disk of Euro- 
pean politics, and fears with reason lest the hatred 
of Russian influence cherished by the Greeks within 
the Turkish empire should relax his hold upon that 
empire, and baffle his darling policy. On this ac- 
count he has ventured to disturb the peace of na- 
tions, and has sought by a daring step to gain a 
foothold whereby he may bring the whole organ- 
ization of the Greek clergy more thoroughly under 
his dominion, and so be able by their instrumental- 
ity to crush the democratic element, and tread out 
the last spark of religious liberty among the peo- 
ple. Having taken this step, he will not go back; 
and Western Europe can not let him go forward. 

Is not war, then, inevitable in spite of all diplo- 
macy ? It must come. And we say, let it come ! 
Oh, let the Moslem crescent wave still longer over 
the races to whom- it is now the guarantee of peace- 
ful progress, rather than give place to the North- 
ern banner which flaunts the cross of Christ in the 
face of the civilized world as an ensign of oppres- 
sion! 

And while I breathe this heartfelt wish, I am not 
unmindful of my position as an American citizen, 
a Christian, and a Christian minister; but I would, 
nevertheless, in some degree reciprocate the spirit 
of the benediction with which the Sultan Mahmoud 
once greeted one of our own countrymen. It 
was called forth by an occasion of great interest to 
the public of Constantinople — the first launch of a 



108 OHRrSTIANITY AND TuRKISH PoWEK. 

_ _ 

vessel of war built by an American naval architect. 
At the appointed time, while Mr. Rhodes, then act- 
ing under the direction of Henry Eckford, was pre- 
paring for the launch, the Sultan Mahmoud with 
his attendants arrived at the navy yard. After the 
lapse of several minutes, a pacha approached Mr. 
Rhodes, and informed him that the Sultan had sent 
him to inquire whether more men would not be re- 
quired to assist in the work. Mr. Rhodes replied, 
'No ; that he had men enough. The answer was re- 
ported to the Sultan, who appeared to be very much 
surprised, inasmuch as he supposed that a body of 
a hundred men or more would be needed to start 
the vessel, by dragging it from its place with ropes, 
after the old Turkish fashion. Thinking it quite 
impossible that so few men as he saw at work were 
sufficient for the purpose, and that the question or 
the answer had perhaps been misunderstood, he 
sent the pacha back to ask if it would not be agree- 
able to Mr. Rhodes to have a body of soldiers or- 
dered up from the barracks. Mr. Rhodes in his 
haste replied rather abruptly, that he needed no 
help, and wished to be let alone. This answer was 
also reported to the Sultan, who seemed to be 
rather more astounded than before. But ere suffi- 
cient time had elapsed for sending another message, 
the ways were all prepared, the blocks knocked 
aside, and when the noble ship glided forward 
majestically, ''like a thing of life," as if hasting to 
be embraced by the placid waters of the Golden 
Horn, Mahmoud could not restrain his emotions ; 
lifting his hand toward heaven, he exclaimed, ''God 



Christianity and Turkish Power. 109 

is great ! God is great ! God help him if he is an 
infidel!" 

This expression was significant. It was in har- 
mony with " the signs of the times." It indicated 
a power at work in the course of events, by which, 
as by a series of convulsive shocks, the Moslem's 
prejudice and pride have been made to give way 
before the march of Christian civilization. And 
now, in the midst of the nineteenth century, when 
the nominally Christian governments of continen- 
tal Europe are arrayed on the side of kingly and 
priestly despotism, if we behold a Mohammedan 
power whose tendencies, aspirations, and civil pol- 
icy favor the cause of religious freedom, of liberal 
culture, and of popular progress on that power, 
whatsoever name it bear, let our benedictions rest ; 
let it be our prayer that " the stars in their courses" 
may fight for it, and that the day may soon come 
when, having completed that process of moral trans- 
formation which has been so hopefully begun, it may 
take its proper place as a part of Christ's universal 
heritage, and be hailed as an acquisition of strength 
and beauty to the domain of Christendom. 



APPENDIX. 



Note A. Page 96. 
THE PRINCIPALITIES. 

Moldavia, which has figured so much of late in 
European diplomacy, became, we perceive, a Turk- 
ish province half a century before the capture of 
Constantinople. With this notice touching the en- 
trance of that ill-fated province into the history of 
Turkish affairs, it may be well to connect a few ob- 
servations drawn from the journal of the author, 
while pursuing a voyage up the Danube in the 
year 1839. These observations relate not only to 
Moldavia, but also to the neighboring principality 
of Wallachia. 

After a stormy voyage on the Black Sea, we en- 
tered the Danube on a pleasant afternoon, under a 
bright sun. For a sea-steamer, even of the smallest 
size, to enter one of the mouths of this river in the 
early spring, is a matter of considerable moment; 
for in our course there lay a bar, around which the 
current generally varies its direction during the 
winter. On this account great care is requisite. 



112 The Principalities. 

We proceeded slowly, the captain and pilot anx- 
iously looking out, and all seemed to breathe more 
freely when we reached the main current. Here a 
large number of vessels were lying on both the 
Turkish and Russian shores, waiting for an oppor- 
tunity to sail. jSTot able to proceed with a full 
cargo, they send a part before them in lighters, 
and receive it again after having passed the bar. 
The entrance of the steamer for the first time in the 
season produces a sensation^ and the vessels are full 
of gazers. The land at the mouth of the Danube 
lies very low, and the houses which line the shore 
do little to relieve a dreary landscape. An eagle 
careering in the air greeted us with an inquiring 
eye, and groups of white pelicans clustered on the 
bank, or moving gracefully on the water kept a 
respectful distance, and made off slowly on our ap- 
proach. 

In ascending the Danube, no object of interest 
engages the attention until, after having passed the 
mouth of the river Pruth, we reach Galatz, the port 
of Moldavia. Here a small forest of masts indicates 
the activity of commerce. As evening w^as drawing 
near, the shore exhibited a scene of pastoral beauty, 
as large flocks of sheep were feeding on the plains, 
and herds were driven to the river for watering. The 
arrival of the steamer made a gala-day for the peo- 
ple ; a salute of seven guns was fired, and a great 
throng of every class and size welcomed the Ferdi- 
nand, and Captain Evertson her gentlemanly com- 
mander. 

The shore and shipping are the most pleasing 



The Principalities. 113 



objects which Galatz presents to the eye of a trav- 
eler. These seemed somewhat picturesque ; but on 
entering the town the charm dissolves. It contains 
about five thousand people ; the houses are of wood, 
low, unpainted, and open to the street,, except a few 
in the upper part which are whitewashed, tiled, and 
have glass windows ; the streets are formed of logs 
laid cross ways, making a corduroy road. Every 
thing has a comfortless aspect. Yet the commerce 
of the place is considerable, and we were aston- 
ished to see the number of vessels from England, 
and the isles of the Mediterranean which find their 
way here. Moldavian exports are chiefly wax, wool, 
tallow, skins, barrel-staves, beans, cheese, corn, and 
wine. The chief imports are cotton, coffee, sugar, 
oil, and iron. Living is cheap. A fine goose costs 
twelve and a half cents, a fat sheep seventy-five 
cents, and other things in proportion. This port is 
the outlet, not only of Moldavia, but also of the 
neighboring principality of Wallachia. 

Passing the mouth of the river Sereth we come 
to Ibraila, the port of Wallachia, containing 25,000 
people, and largely engaged in commerce. Its arti- 
cles of export are the same as those of Galatz, and 
more than five hundred cargoes of .wheat, barley, 
and oats, of two hundred tons each, have annually 
left this little town. Cattle, sheepskins, and can- 
tharides are also exported in abundance. A good 
horse may be bought here for fifteen dollars, and 
this is an indication of the scale of prices for all 
articles connected with agriculture. Yet under a 
good government the products of this principality 



114 The Pkincipalities. 

might be greatly increased. As it is, one can easily 
see that it opens a large sphere of commerce, and 
many English vessels frgra "the United States of 
the Ionian Islands" are engaged in it, but we 
doubt whether any vessel from the United States 
of America has ever unfurled her flag in these? 
Danubian ports. 

The provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia ex- 
tend from the Danube to the Carpathian Mount- 
ains, one hundred and fifty miles, and from the 
Pruth to Orschova, three hundred and sixty miles 
along the river. Moldavia derives its name from 
the river Moldau, and was the early home of the 
Yenedi, who have been called '' the bearers of the 
human race" — the same people who settled the 
part of England now called Cambridgeshire, whose 
name is derived from the Teutonic word fen, who 
lived on low lands, dammed up the small rivers so 
as to cover the marshes with water, and lived on 
the wild fowl and fish which fattened in their 
watery domain. Wallachia derives its name from 
the Illyrian word vlac/i, which is by interpretation 
a herdsman. The Romans colonized the territory 
with thirty thousand people, and held it for three 
hundred years, but were obliged to withdraw 
their protection as they did from Britain, when the 
empire became weak and the barbarians strong. 
Nevertheless these civilized colonists influenced 
the character of their barbarian conquerors, and, 
as Gibbon observes, ''the Wallachians still pre- 
serve many traces of the Latin language, and have 
boasted in every age of their Roman despent." It 



The Principalities. 115 



must be confessed, however, that at the present day 
the people of neither of these provinces have much 
that is Roman in their aspect, manners, or habits. 
The rough dress, the sheepskin coats, the rude im- 
plements of agriculture which now prevail are 
fashioned in the same style as those which are 
sculptured on Trajan's column in Rome, erected 
more than seventeen hundred years ago to com- 
memorate his conquest of this very land, which 
then bore the name of Dacia. What a sad proof is 
furnished here of the immobility of this part of 
Europe ! For seventeen centuries it has not made 
one step of progress, and no sign of an onward 
movement has appeared, except the recent impulse 
communicated by the establishment of steam-navi- 
gation. In this point of view^ the curious throng 
gathered around our steamer was an interesting 
and significant fact, foretelling a brighter future ! 

The population of these two provinces is about a 
million and a half. The prevailing religion is that 
of the Greek Church, a form of nominal Christianity 
which does nothing for popular improvement, and 
has in it nearly all those elements of degenerate 
superstition which belong to Popery itself. Let it 
be always said in its praise, however, that it allows 
the Bible to the people ; but the Wallachians never 
had the Scriptures in their vernacular tongue un- 
til they were introduced by the Greek Hospodar, 
Constantine Mavrocordato, who in the year 1735 
had the Old and ISTew Testaments printed in the 
common dialect. In order to accomplish this he 
had to invent a new character, composed of Greek 



116 The Pkincipalities. 

and Slavonic letters, as the patois of the country 
had never before been reduced to writing. 

As in other parts of Northern Europe, the peas- 
antry of these provinces are in an abject condition. 
They are, in fact, the slaves of the aristocracy, and 
wholly in their power. The physical appearance 
of all classes is considerably similar, and perhaps 
influenced much by the climate ; they are low of 
stature, plump, timid, inert, having soft, silky hair 
— characteristics that may be found alike in the rich 
proprietor who reclines in his gilded carriage, and 
the laborer who is jolted along in his rickety, old- 
fashioned wagon. In the northern parts, wolves 
and bears infest the Carpathian jungles, but even 
these have a more gentle and timid character than 
their several species in other lands. 

In these provinces the contrast between north 
and south is very marked, the former sections be- 
ing undulating, varied, and picturesque, the latter 
marshy and dreary. As has been intimated, there 
is much of fertile soil, but there are few stimulants 
to enterprise. The political power is really in the 
hand of Russia, nominally in that of Turkey. The 
Sultan appoints the Hospodar or Governor, but he 
dares not name one whom Russia dislikes. A mil- 
lion of piastres is the tribute which the Hospodar 
has been accustomed to pay to Turkey for Molda- 
via, and two millions for Wallachia. If these 
principalities were blessed with freedom, and \vell- 
managed, they w^ould furnish a fine mart for manu- 
factured articles, for which they could give so many 
products in exchange ; but at present their educa- 



The PitmcTPALrnES. 117 

tion is so limited, their tastes and habits so barba- 
rous, that they have few of those wants which 
civilization creates. 

In these countries may be seen everywhere large 
groups of gypsies ; that singular, wandering race, 
restless, idle, thievish, superstitious ; living like 
Ishmaelites, with their hands against every man, 
and every man's hand against them, yet dwelling 
in the presence of their brethren. They exhibit the 
same traits, whether found in Egypt or Spain, in 
Hungary or Wallachia. In the two principalities 
their number is one hundred and hfty thousand. 
Their immigration oJffers a curious and difficult 
problem. It has been said that they manifest 
everywhere not only the same features, but almost 
the same name, ''for in the words Zingani and 
Tchingani we trace ^ the etymological root which 
points to Egypt as the native soil of the French 
Egyptian, the English Gypsey, the Spanish Gitano, 
the Italian Zingano, and the German Zigeuver." 
Like owls, they seem most happy at night; we 
have seen them grouped around their fires full of 
life and glee at midnight, while in the day they ap- 
pear more sombre. 

As might be expected, not much can be said in 
favor of the general state of morals in Moldavia 
and Wallachia. The marriage tie is weak, divorce 
is common for the most trivial causes, and, of 
course, all social bonds are lax. Scarcely a good 
servant can be found: every one is depraved, and 
especially thievish. If the people were heathen, 
there might be some hope for therq ; for in that 



118 Okigin of the Hungarians. 



case they would present an inviting field for mis- 
sionary effort. But being nominally Christian, 
and under the protection of Russia, '' the door is 
shut." In view of such facts, an enlightened Chris- 
tian is constrained to pray that the great JSTorthern 
despotism may soon meet the doom which is pre- 
dicted in the second Psalm against the govern- 
ments of the earth that impede the progress of 
Christianity : " He shall break them as with a rod 
of iron, he shall dash them in pieces like a potter's 
vessel." 



. Note B. Page 100. 
ORIGIN OF THE HUNGARIANS. 

The origin of the Hungarians has been much 
discussed by European antiquaries ; they them- 
selves, however, are wont to boast of their de- 
scent from the Huns, and place Attila in their list 
of kings, with a feeling of pride as strong as that 
which led the hordes of Attila to vaunt themselves 
of a descent from those ancient Huns who had 
been of old the terror of China — warlike tribes 
against whose invasions the great Chinese wall, 
fifteen hundred miles in length, was erected three 



ORIGIN OF Tm: TIVXGA?:IAKS. 119 

hundred years before the Christian era. It is a 
curious fact, that some believe the modern Hun- 
garians and the Turks to have been of kindred 
blood, and that both came from Turcomania (the 
ancient Armenia) ; a theory sustained by the affin- 
ities that are detected between the languages and 
the physiognomies of the two natives. Coincident 
with this theory is the curious fact, that at the foot 
of Mount Caucasus are the ruins of two neighbor- 
ing towns, called Magyar and Torok (pronounced 
Turuk) ; the latter name being one which might 
easily be changed into Turk. Undoubtedly there 
was a mixture of various tribes in the settlement 
of Pannonia, now called Hungary, but general 
opinion concedes to the Magyars their claim of 
carrying in their veins the blood of the Huns who 
owned the sway of Attila. . A thought like that in- 
spires many of the Hungarians with the hope that 
as their ancestors overturned the throne of Eome, 
it may yet be their own destiny to overturn the 
throne of Austria, which boasts of having succeeded 
to the sceptre of Roman empire. 

In the streets and squares of Buda, groups of 
Austrians and Hungarians may often be seen min- 
gled together, exhibiting a contrast of appearance 
and manner which can not fail to arrest the atten- 
tion of a stranger. As was observed by an English 
traveler, '' The Austrians are in general of low sta- 
ture, sturdy limbs, broad chests, and so remark- 
ably thick about the neck and shoulders that they 
seem humpbacked. They have large heads, broad 
faces, and coarse, but good-natured countenances. 



120 Mohammed's Brigantines. 



The Hungarians, on the contrary, are tall and slen- 
der, with narrow shoulders, thin necks, and slight 
limbs, with an upright gait. Their heads are 
small, their features sallow, with dark eyes, and a 
certain wildness in their looks, as if they had not 
entirely divested themselves of the character of 
their Tartarian or Scythian ancestors. Their dis- 
positions form as strong a contrast as their per- 
sons. The Austrians are slow and phlegmatic, the 
Hungarians quick and irritable ; and their feelings 
on the same subject are often totally difierent." 
Both, too, we may add, are fond of music ; Hun- 
garian minstrelsy is not unknown in America ; 
but the Austrian taste and culture came from the 
German schools, while those of the Hungarians 
were derived from Italy, in the daj^s of Mathias 
Corvinus, a monarch who was devoted to the cul- 
tivation of literature and art in Hungary. 



Note C. Page 102. 
MOHAMMED'S BRIGANTINES. 

There have been various opinions as to the dis- 
tance over which these brigantines were carried. 
The following remarks from the pen of Rev. R. 
Walsh, LL. D., who resided several years in Con- 



Mohammed's Brigantines. 121 



stantinople, in the suite of Lord Strangford, are 
worthy of attention : 

''The place wi^ere this extraordinary passage 
over the land was effected, which decided the fate 
of Constantinople, is a subject of much local dis- 
cussion ; and the point assigned for it is now 
called Balta Limen, about half way up the Bos- 
phorus to the Black Sea. Balta was the name of 
the Turkish admiral who commanded on the oc- 
casion, and this little port retaining his name is 
considered decided proof of the fact. From hence 
to the harbor the distance is ten or eleven miles, 
which induced Gibbon to say, for the sake of 
probability, that ' he wished he could contract the 
distance of ten miles, and prolong the term of one 
night.' Now. had Gibbon visited the spot, he 
might have spared his wish, and established the 
probability. The place where the ships were 
drawn over was not at Balta Limen, but at Dolma 
Bactche, where a deep valley runs up from the 
Bosphorus to join that of the harbor, and they 
were only separated by a ridge of a few hundred 
yards in breadth. This valley is in the immediate 
vicinity of Galata ; and the Genoese sailors of that 
town are known to have materially assisted the 
Turks in this transportation, the whole distance of 
which was not more than two miles, and might 
easily be performed within the time stated by the 
historian. I might further add, that Balta Limen, 
the supposed place was not so called from a Turk- 
ish admiral, but from a Turkish word, balta, an 
axe — as the valley was formerly filled with wood. 



122 Mohammed's Brigantines. 

which the Baltages or woodmen were accustomed 
to cut down for fuel. I mention these facts to 
show you how necessary the actual view of a place 
is to the accuracy of historical detail, and to re- 
move your skepticism on this point at least, as I 
would wish to do on every other, where it may 
have b^en excited by passages from Gibbon." 



CHRISTIANITY 



AND 



TRADITION ISM; 



AN ESSAY 



ON 



W I C K L I F F E. 



CHRISTIANITY 



AND 



TRADITIONISM. 



It has often been remarked, by attentive observers 
within the realm of philosophy and poetry, that 
there is a beautiful analogy between certain objects 
in the world of matter and the world of mind, on 
account of which, the contemplation of them awakens 
a kindred feeling, which we agree to denominate, 
according to the relative intensity of its character, 
the emotion of beauty or sublimity. It has some- 
times been questioned, whether those emotions be 
the more strongly aroused in the human bosom by 
the objects of outward nature, or by that class of 
actions in the history of man which develop power 
of character, and enkindle the admiration of moral 
greatness. He who has gazed upon the heaving 
ocean, or stood all eye and ear at the foot of the 
mighty cataract, or amidst the tempest's play amongst 
the mountains, has heard the live thunder leap from 



126 Christianity and Traditionism. 

peak to peak, or looked upon the '' Alpine palaces 
where nature sits enthroned in icy halls/^ might 
well doubt the while whether his soul were sus- 
ceptible of an emotion more awful and profound. 
Nevertheless, when such an one is called to turn his 
thoughts to a series of actions which exhibit the 
loftiest attributes of mind, which constitute an era 
in the history of the race, and connect themselves 
by links which extend through intervening centuries 
with the events of the presei>t hour, he cannot but 
feel, that to such deeds of spiritual might, there is 
added a moral grandeur which causes them to take 
a still deeper hold upon the soul of man, to awaken 
a nobler homage, an emotion still more sublime. 
He certainly felt this to be true, who asks, 

" Is aught so fair 
In all the dewy landscapes of the spring, 
In the bright eye of Hesper on the morn, 
In nature's fairest forms, is aught so fair 
As virtuous friendship ? as the candid blush 
Of him who strives with fortune to be just? 
The graceful tear that streams for others' woes ? 
Or the mild majesty of private life, 
Where peace with ever-blooming olives crowns 
The gate ; 

Look then abroad through nature, to the range 
Of planets, suns, and adamantine spheres, 
WTieeling unshaken through the void immense. 
And speak, O man ! does this capacious scene. 
With half that kindling majesty, dilate 
Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose. 
Refulgent from the stroke of Caesar's fate. 
Amid the crowd of patriots ; and his arm 
Aloft extended, like eternal Jove. 



Christianity and Traditionism. 127 

Wlieu guilt brings down, the thunder called aloud 

On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, 

And bade the father of his country, hail ! , 

For lo, the tyrant prostrate in the dust, 

And Rome again is free." 

Magnanimity, heroism, self-sacrifice, put forth for 
any cause, whether on behalf of virtuous friendship 
or the honor of one's country, invest a character 
with a certain aspect of moral greatness, which 
must challenge the esteem even of an enemy. How 
strongly, then, must we feel this to be the case, 
while looking upon the condition of men in a be- 
nighted age, when Superstition had enthroned her- 
self on the ruins of all that was just in social order, 
ennobling in freedom, and rational in religion ; 
when, throughout her wide realm, which she desig- 
nated Christendom^ no one durst utter aloud those 
words which are said to be " spirit and life,^' except 
at the peril of martyrdom ; when he, who was called 
the vicar of Christ, had so united the church and 
the world in a base idolatry that it seemed as if the 
tempter^s wish had been realized, long after it had 
been uttered on the mount of vision, where, pointing 
to the kingdoms of the earth, he said to Jesus, " All 
these will I give thee, if thou wilt .fall down and 
worship me ;" — while at such a time, we see a single 
mind, catching at first some faint gleams of light 
from the oracles of God, becoming gradually more 
illuminated, then fired with a holy zeal for the cause 
of God and truth and man, at fearful odds, waging 
war with principalities and powers, and spiritual 
wickedness in high places, till at last, though beaten 



128 Christianity and Traditionism. 

down and prostrate, it sees the triumph from afar, 
and hails the coming victory, we cannot but be 
struck with the sublimity of goodness, and stand in 
awe of what is great and majestic in human cliarac- 
ter. Such is the order of sentiments with which 
we look back upon the career of John de Wycliffe, 
the herald of the Reformation, the star which aiose 
upon the brow of a long and gloomy night, the har- 
binger of approaching day. 

In asking the reader's attention, at this time, to 
the character and influence of Wycliffe, it is not 
merely with a wish to do justice to one to whom we 
are all much indebted, but chiefly to awaken an 
interest in the principles and conduct of a man, 
whose life is a volume of instruction. In itself con- 
sidered, his character has much of intrinsic dignity, 
formed as it was of piety, learning, philanthropy, 
enthusiasm, sobriety, which all rendered beautiful 
that martyr-spirit that appeared in him, calm, firm, 
self-possessed, feeling ever " the rocky grounds of 
his strength,'' meek, humble, bold, resolute, immova- 
ble, daring, and able to stand against the world. 
But in its relations, his character possesses a high 
moral interest, for to him belongs the glory of 
having struck »the first notes which touched the 
heart of Christendom and aroused that reforming 
spirit, which became " a spirit of judgment and a 
spirit of burning," which spread electrically through 
Europe, breaking up the thraldom of ages, and, 
extending its alarms to the Vatican, caused even 
there the faltering inquiry to be made, " when shall 
the desolation cease ?" The Waldenses had, indeed, 



Christianity and Traditionism. 129 

amidst their mountain fastnesses, remained faithful 
to the truth ; but they could only hope for security 
for themselves, nor could they effect any aggressive 
movement against the reigning corruptions. Wy- 
cliffe stood quite alone in his own times, deriving 
no light or strength from the dissenting Christians 
of the continent ; and though there, the name of 
Luther is inscribed on the foremost banner of the 
Reformation, yet it has happened (as Fiddes ob- 
serves in his Life of Cardinal Wolsey) that Wycliffe 
was like a physician, who applied the first successful 
remedies against an inveterate disease, and Luther 
was like one who came in at last to carry forward 
what had been begun, to its consummation, and so 
bore away the palm and glory. 

The village of Wycliffe, in the north part of York- 
shire, seems on the most probable evidence, which is 
sustained by the authority of Leland, to have the 
honor of being the birth-place of the Reformer. In 
our times, the appellation of Wycliffe is used as a 
surname ; but in his day, it designated a locality, 
and, according to the old Saxon usage, he was usu- 
ally called John of Wycliffe. The date of his birth 
is generally referred to the year 1324 ; and we know 
nothing of his youth, except that his name was en- 
rolled as a student at Oxford in 1340. Queen's 
College, of which he became a member, was founded 
that year, for the students of the northern counties ; 
but he was soon transferred to Merton, the most 
eminent of all, where the chair of divinity was filled 
by Thomas Bradwardine, afterwards archbishop of 
Canterbury, a man of extensive learning, and very 



130 Christianity and Traditionism. 

celebrated for his writings against the Pelagians, in 
vie\y of which Dr. Gill speaks in his praise, and 
calls him a second Austin. Possessed of extraordi- 
nary talents, and a liberality of mind far beyond his 
age, he was well fitted to be the instructer of such a 
youth as "Wycliffe, and though he made no formal 
opposition to Popery, he did much to foster an inde- 
pendent spirit of inquiry. 

Around the walls of Merton, the spirit of Duns 
Scotus still lingered. His fame had filled Europe, 
and to be enlightened by his wisdom, thirty thousand 
students gathered around his chair. He was entitled 
the subtle doctor : of scholastic learning he had ex- 
haustless stores, of which we may mention as a proof, 
that when the University of Paris was agitated with 
the question, whether the Virgin Mary was born in 
original sin, Scotus settled it by producing two hun- 
dred arguments in the negative. The devotion of 
his students to him must have been very great, for 
Brucker afiirras that they used to say, "Had the 
genius of Aristotle been unknown, that of Scotus 
could have supplied its place.'^ This was the highest 
possible eulogium ; for the scholars of that age were 
distinguished by their passion for logic and meta- 
physics, and the study of Aristotle comprised all 
that they thought worthy of the name of learning. 
The living philosopher could not have received 
more homage from his disciples at Athens, than his 
name drew forth from the students of Oxford in the 
fourteenth century. In their view, a man might 
pretend to study the Scriptures, and become a bibli- 



Christianity and Traditionism. 131 

cist ; but unless lie understood Aristotle, he could 
never understand the Bible. 

At that time, the sciences were divided into two 
classes, called the triviuni and quadriviuin^ the first 
embracing grammar, rhetoric and logic ; the second 
music, arithmetic, geometry and astronomy. With 
the exception of music, the studies of the first divi- 
sion were most diligently pm^sued ; within their 
sphere, the power of the human intellect seemed to 
be concentrated ; and though we may regard their 
subtle exercises of the dialectic art as profitless, yet 
it must be conceded, that the world has jiever beheld 
instances of sharper wit, or of logical powers more 
finely trained. Long and fruitless their wars of 
words may seem to us in retrospect, but woe to the 
man who should have ventured to engage in them, 
if deficient in memory, or invention, or the industry 
which was requisite to master the technicalties of 
their favorite science. Instant defeat would have 
followed the want of knowledge, strength or skill, 
and however wise or strong a man might be, he 
could avail but little with the leading men of those 
times, unless he could hold his ground with the 
scholastic doctors in the use of their own weapons. 
The riper youth of Wycliffe was, therefore, most 
profitably spent in close investigation of the Aris- 
totelian philosophy, and acquiring those implements 
of logical warfare, which he was destined to wield 
with such signal success in the cause of truth and 
humanity. According to the testimony of his oppo- 
nents, he was unrivalled in debate, the proudest 
wranglers stood in awe of him ; in their intellectual 



132 Christianity and Traditiomism. 

tournaments he was sure to come off victorious, so 
that Knighton, a contemporary and bitter foe, writes 
of him, '■ in philosophia nulli reputabatur secundus ; 
in scholasticis disciplinis incomparabilis." 

But whilst we admire the talent of Wycliffe, dis- 
played in his rich learning and in those mental feats 
which were the wonder of his time, we observe, with 
the greatest pleasure, his early devotion to biblical 
studies. This constituted the peculiarity of his 
character, and here lay the secret of his strength. 
Firm in his belief, that the Scriptures were given 
by inspiration of God, and that each man is account- 
able for the manner in which he treats them, he was 
soon prepared to broach the first element of Protes- 
tantism, which is, their sufficiency. Seeing that they 
are adapted to all the race, both '' low and high, 
rich and poor together," it was natural that he 
should reach the second fundamental principle, which 
is the right of private judgment. In the assertion of 
these two principles. Protestantism essentially con- 
sists." Firmly holding these, he was furnished with 
a standard by which to try the church herself, the 
institutions of his time, the pretensions of the pope, 
the decrees of councils, the canon law, and the popu- 
lar doctrines. Thus he learned to '' try the spirits" 
whether they were of God. Hence, sprang those 
clear conceptions of the enormity of prevailing evils, 
the mental independence, which enabled him to rise 
superior to all human authority, to divest every sub- 
ject of the factitious glare or obscurity which the 

'■* Note A. Right of Private Judgment, 



Christianity and Traditionism. 133 

priesthood had thrown around it, — the moral cou- 
rage which enabled him to brook a nation^ preju- 
dice, and to confront a graceless hierarchy, who sat 
on the throne of church dorninion, clothed with 
unearthly terrors. 0, there is that in the earnest 
study of the Bible which humbles, yet exalts, which 
leads the soul to feel itself in the presence of God, 
and dilates it with a sense of his glorious majesty. 
Then his w^ord worketh effectually, his voice is om- 
nipotent. To such a mind there can be no terror ; 
life, death, tribulation, peril, sword, principalities, 
powers, sink to nothing before it. 

If Wycliffe possessed extraordinary force of cha- 
racter, here is to be found its explanation. But for 
his devotion to the Scriptures, he would have been 
as another man. Guided by those rival authorities 
of the Bible, the canon law, which was a digest of 
ecclesiastical decisions, or the decrees of the pope, 
he would have had no light or strength or motive 
to resist the reigning corruptions, or else would 
have struck only at the branches, and not at the 
root of the evils which desolated Christendom.'^ 
With a lofty piety, which was nurtured by commu- 
nion with inspired minds, with genius and talents 
and knowledge, all quickened by a study of the 
divine word, his life was a memorial of the power 
of that word to form the character, and of the power 
of a character so formed, to affect the destinies of 
the human race. 

A more ample survey of his career than it is pos- 

* Note B. Gibbon's Great Mistake. 



134 Christianity and Traditionism. 

sible for us to take at tins time, would furnish 
instructive proofs of this. Let us, however, mark 
its influence in the case which first brought him 
into open collision with the spirit of his own age. 
This was an attack on the order of mendicant 
monks, which he commenced at Oxford, in 1360. 
In his day, the monastic system was thriving in 
full vigor, and perhaps it is difficult for us to con- 
ceive adequately of the extent of its influence. By 
its aspect of sanctity and self-denial, it was artfully 
addressed to that religious sentiment which exists in 
man universally, and which, while in Europe it had 
taken on the form of Christianity, had become re- 
volted and shocked at the vices of the clergy. 
When avarice, arrogance and ambition reigned in 
the cathedral, many were struck with veneration on 
beholding an order of men seeking seclusion, extoll- 
ing a meditative life, and turning their backs on all 
the attractions of wealth, and all the " pride of 
place. '^ Such a device took well with the Romish 
church, which has always sought to extend her sway 
by appealing to every feeling in the bosom of man, 
and to address the moral sentiment by the ostenta- 
tion of virtue. But " truth will out,^^ nature will 
develop itself, and human depravity scorns to be 
bound by ecclesiastical canons. When veneration 
for the monks had made them rich in endowments, 
their profligacy became manifest unto all, their credit 
sunk, and the church lost much of her honor of sanc- 
tity. In the century preceding the time of Wyclifi'e, 
Grossteste, bishop of Lincoln, described the Anglo- 
Norman monks, as '' belonging to tlie dead rathe^- 



Christianity and Traditionism. 135 

than the living, as the tenants of a sepulchre, appear- 
ing in the habiliments of the grave, and as deriving 
all their vitality from an infernal inspiration." In 
such a case, the device of a new order of monks 
seemed exactly adapted to meet the churches exigen- 
cy, and the appearance of a class of men who had 
bound themselves to own no property, to devote 
themselves to charitable works, to live by alms, to 
imitate the poverty of Christ, and who were known 
by the name of mendicant^ friars, or begging breth- 
ren, attracted general attention and reverence. At 
first, some of the more enlightened thought that, at 
least, by their itinerant preaching they might do 
much good, and therefore favored them. Among 
these was Grossteste, but he afterwards became their 
decided foe.. Their mock poverty excited disgust ; 
vaunting themselves of the favor of the pope, they 
contemned the civil power, and were seen to be mere 
tools in the hands of the pontiff for tha exercise of 
his dominion. The spirit of Wycliffe was stirred 
within him, as he saw their increasing influence, and 
the fearful use they made of it, and, not content with 
pointing out their gross abuses, he struck at the 
foundation of their order. It was a fortunate cir- 
cumstance for him that they were accustomed to ex- 
patiate on the poverty of Christ as the model of 
their imitation, for this led him in his conflict with 
them to enter fully into the scriptural argument, to 
draw forth the Bible from its obscurity, to hold it 
up as the lamp of heaven, the standard of faith, and 
rule of duty, while he marked the contrast between 
its teachings and the usages which church authority 



136 Christianity and Traditionism. 

had sanctioned ; in effect he thundered forth the 
startling appeal of the prophet, '' What is the chaff 
to the wheat? saith the Lord.'^"^ 

The result of this controversy was most benign. 
While it displayed Wycliffe's courage, in attacking 
those of whom it was said, that '' a lord would more 
patiently bear a severe censuring of his least offence 
than mendicants the soft and mild reproving of their 
greatest sins,'^ who had long presided over the In- 
quisition on the continent, and who were called '' the 
confessors, the preachers, and the rulers commonly 
of all men,'' it at the same time enabled him to scat- 
ter broad-cast the seeds of that scriptural truth, 
which alone could cause a prostrate church to rise 
up from her bondage of death, " regenerated and dis- 
enthralled/' 

After this, Wycliffe appears to have advanced fast 
in honors. He was made master of Baliol College, 
and presented to the living of Fillingham in the 
diocese of Lincoln. He was much esteemed by Is- 
lip, who succeeded Bradwardine in the see of Can- 
terbury, and by him was made warden of Canterbury 
Hall, which he himself had founded. Soon after, 
Islip died, and was succeeded by Langham, who had 
himself been a monk, and was a great friend of the 
religious orders. By him, Wycliffe was deposed on 
some frivolous pretences. Strong in a good con- 
science, he appealed to the pope for justice, but in 
vain. 

Soon after this. Providence presented him with 

* Note C. Beausobro on the Authority of " Tlie Fathers." 



Christianity and Traditionism. 137 

an opportunity of striking an effective blow at the 
power of popery in England. How absolute, how 
awful that power had been, may be seen at a glance, 
by the oath of king John, pronounced while kneel- 
ing before the people, with his hands held up be- 
tween those of the legate : " I, John, by the grace of 
God, king of England, and lord of Ireland, in order 
to expiate my sins, from my own free will and the 
advice of my barons, give to the church of Rome, to 
pope Innocent and his successors, the kingdom of 
England, and all other prerogatives of my crown. 
I will hereafter hold them as the pope's vassal. I 
will be. faithful to God, to the church of Rome, to 
the Pope my master, and his successors legitimately 
elected. I promise to pay him a tribute of a thou- 
sand marks yearly, to wit, seven hundred for the 
kingdom of England, and three hundred for Ire- 
land.'' The people of England were ashamed of 
John for taking such an oath, but their own blind 
superstition was the occasion of it ; for when the 
pope laid the nation under an interdict, the king- 
was as effectually cut off from the charities of so- 
ciety, as was the Jewish leper, who was forced to 
exclaim, " Unclean, unclean.'' After Innocent, the 
popes did not uniformly exact the promised tribute ; 
but at the time of which we speak, Urban V. de- 
manded of Edward III. the feudal liomage, the trib- 
ute, and thirty -five years' arrearage, admonishing him 
that in default of payment, he would be cited in due 
form to appear in person at the court of the sovereign 
pontiff. This demand roused the better part of the 
nation to resistance. The king refused to comply, 



138 Christianity and Traditionism. 

sustained by the advice of Parliament, which had 
been for years increasing in power and dignity. 
Nevertheless, the monks were exasperated at what 
they considered an insult cast on the head of the 
church, and vindicated the pontiff^s claim. Wycliffe 
could now indeed enter the lists boldly, for favored 
by the collision between the king and the pope, he 
had been made royal chaplain, and in his published 
reply, he appears as the first man in England, since 
the days of A^ugustine the first propagator of those 
corruptions there, who ventured openly to maintain 
the sufficiency of the Scriptures, the inferiority of 
the canon law, the peccability of the pope, and his 
liability to the guilt of mortal transgression. Honor 
be to the memory of the man who stood forth in a 
dark and trying day, to promulgate in our father- 
land those principles which were destined there and 
here to gain so complete a victory.. 

At the period of which we speak, Wycliffe was in 
the fortieth year of his age. He was honored with 
the aid and friendship of John of Gaunt, Duke of 
Lancaster, the most powerful noble of the realm. A 
coincidence of design brought them together, for 
while the Duke, as a politician and statesman, was 
disturbed at seeing bishops and priests intruding 
themselves into secular offioes, Wycliffe, in the true 
spirit of a Christian minister, was inveighing against 
the worldliness of the clergy. In one of his essays 
he writes, that " prelates and great religious posses- 
sioners, are so occupied in heart about worldly lord- 
ships and with pleas of business, that no habits of 
devotion, of praying, of thoughtfulness on heavenly 



Christianity and Traditionism. 139 

things, on the sins of their own hearts, or on those 
of other men, may be preserved ; neither may they 
be found studying and preaching of the gospel, nor 
visiting and comforting of poor men." An effort 
being made at this period, by the Parliament, to 
check clerical ambition by confining the most im- 
portant offices, which had been held by churchmen, 
to the laity, we may easily conceive that the name 
of Wycliffe was not in high repute with the dignita- 
ries of his own order. 

Nevertheless, his opportunities for extending his 
sentiments were increasing. He received the de- 
gree of doctor in divinity, and was elevated to the 
chair of theology at Oxford. In that age the doc- 
torate was not distributed so freely as at the present. 
He who wore it earned it, and it was worth some- 
thing to him. It was truly a literary honor, and the 
candidate for it passed a rigid probation. Sur- 
rounded with his pupils, as doctor in theology, Wy- 
cliffe communicated those principles which took root 
in the genial enthusiasm of many a youthful heart, 
and produced in succeeding years a rich harvest to 
the glory of God and the progress of humanity. 

In point of honor, however, a still higher office 
awaited him, and one which opened to him a fine 
field for observing the intrigues of courts and the 
character of the papacy. At this period,' the papal 
court was held at Avignon, and while the pontiff as- 
sumed the right of filling all ecclesiastical vacancies, 
there seemed to be abundant proof thai his partiali- 
ties were for Frenchmen rather than Englishmen. 
This led the court and parliament of England to 



140 Christianity and Traditionism. 

clierisli a bitter jealousy of the court of Avignon, 
for the proud rivalry between France and England, 
never glowed more warmly than now. This, of 
course, was favorable to Wycliflfe in his war against 
popery, and tended to protect him against the prel- 
ates at home. Edward and the Parliament denied 
the pontiff^s right of election, and thence arose the 
need of a mutual embassy to settle the disputed 
points. Wycliffe was appointed one of the ambas- 
sadors on the part of England, and thence was called 
to reside three years at Bruges, where the negotia- 
tion was conducted. Here he had opportunity to 
become acquainted with some of the chief actors in 
the political scenes of Europe, and returned better 
qualified to prosecute the great work of his heart 
and life. Possessing a knowledge of men as well as 
of books, he had successfully discharged the trust 
committed to him, and, as a proof that he had arisen 
in the estimation of his sovereign, the royal patron- 
age was exercised in his behalf by appointing him 
to the Prebend of Aust in the collegiate church of 
Westbury, Worcester, and to the rectory of Lutter- 
worth. 

But no negotiation seemed to bind the pontiff. 
He found means to evade every restriction, and the 
taxes which he derived from ecclesiastical benefices 
amounted to five times more than the king received 
from the whole produce of the realm. The struggle 
continued till the death of Edward, and it is remark- 
able that tha first Parliament under Richard II. re- 
ferred to the judgment of Wycliffe what seemed to 
them the doubtful question, whether it would not be 



Christianity and Traditionism. 141 

lawful in the kingdonij for the sake of self-defence, 
to detain its treasures, " that it might not be con- 
veyed to foreign nations, though the pope himself 
should demand the same by virtue of obedience said 
to be due to him, and under pain of his censures.^' 
Such a reference of the question was a proof of the 
confidence reposed in the judgment of Wycliffe, who 
in a most lucid manner maintained the afiirmative, 
showing, that neither from the law of reason, nor 
that of Christianity, which is the law of laws, had 
the pope the least claim to such lordly dominion. 

Such an expression of respect must have been 
grateful to Wycliffe, now that the storm of persecu- 
tion was beginning to beat upon him. The prelates 
and monks had been long watching for an opportu- 
nity to arrest the course of one whom they were 
now denouncing as a mischievous heretic. When, 
therefore, Courtney, a man of high rank, of daring 
spirit, and intolerant bigotry, became Bishop of 
London, Wycliffe was summoned to St. Paulas to 
answer, before his ecclesiastical superiors, to the 
charge of heresy. The place was much crowded, so 
that. Wycliffe, attended as he was by his friends, the 
Duke of Lancaster and Lord Percy, the Earl Mar- 
shal, could scarcely get access to his seat. Courtney 
was much irritated at the appearance of the crowd 
and the attendance of the noblemen, and intimated 
a wish that he had taken means to prevent their 
admission to the court. The Duke resented this as 
an insult and replied that the authority of the 
Bishop of London might not be suflScient to control 
his conduct. Lord Percv asked Wvcliffe to be 



142 Christianity and Traditionism. 

seated, as he might have much to answer. This, 
Courtney opposed. High words followed, the meet- 
ing broke up in a tumult, and Wycliffe departed, 
the most calm spectator of the stormy scene. 

The prosecution was then suspended, but ere-long, 
England resounded with the roar of the pontiff^s 
bulls. They were addressed to the Archbishop of 
Canterbury, Bishop of London, the King, and the 
University of Oxford, denouncing Wycliffe as a 
heretic, a preacher of doctrines subversive of the 
church, and requiring him to be delivered up for 
trial. The result was a council at Lambeth, before 
which the Reformer was cited. But how wonderful 
must have been the impression of his doctrine on the 
people and the court ! What dismay filled the 
synod, when the crowd pressed their way into the 
chapel, proclaiming theij* attachment to the person 
and opinions of the Reformer ! In the midst of this 
excitement, Sir Lewis Clifford entered with a mes- 
sage from the queen mother, forbidding the bishops 
to sit in judgment on the doctrines of Wycliffe. 
The assembly was broken up, and thus again was 
the Reformer delivered from the mouth of the lion. 
The council became, according to the courtly Wal- 
singham, " shaken as a reed with the wind, soft as 
oil in their speech, to the open forfeiture of their 
own dignity and the injury of the whole church.^* 

It might have been reasonably expected that 
another volley of papal indignation would have been 
discharged upon England, but this was prevented 
by the death of Gregory XL in 1378, and as then 
Europe became distracted with the contentions of 



Christianity and Traditionism. 143 



the two rival pontiifs, Urban VI. and Clement VII., 
Wycliflfe had occasion to write, " Trust we in the 
help of Christ, on this point, for he hath begun al- 
ready to keep us graciously, in that he hath clove 
the head of Antichrist, and made the two parts fight 
against each other. For it is not doubtful that the 
sin of the popes, which hath been so long continued, 
hath brought in this division.'^ Again, he says, 
" Simon Magus never labored more in the work of 
simony than do these priests (popes) ; and so God 
would no longer suffer the fiend to reign in only one 
such priest, but for the sin whicli they had done, 
made division among two, so that men in Christ's 
name may the more easily overcome them both.'' 
Wyclifie rejoiced in that division, because it tended 
to diminish the reverence of the world for the see 
of Rome, and prompted honest ministers of Christ 
to speak the truth more boldly. The necessity of 
such an. event, to unseal the lips of many witnesses, 
may be seen from the fact, that ^luring this doubtful 
contest, there was a wide-spread feeling of distress 
among the people, lest they should fail of salvation 
in case thev should die without being; united to the 
true vicar of Christ. 

At this period, Wycliffe, who was ever active, 
abounded in labors, being engaged in writing, teach- 
ing, preaching, visiting the sick and poor in connec- 
tion with his rectory. His health gave way under 
such exertions, and while at Oxford, he was attacked 
with a sickness which threatened to be fatal. This 
intelligence was not ungrateful to the monks, and 
they flattered themselves that as he approached the 



144 Christianity and Traditionism. 

eternal world, he might be disposed to counteract 
the evil of his life, by confessing the wrongs which 
he had done to them and to the church. A deputa- 
tion of eight persons was sent to visit him, consisting 
of one doctor from each of the four orders of friars, 
and from senators of the city. When they entered 
his chamber, they beheld him lying weak and help- 
less on his bed. After some general observations 
they came to the point in hand, remarking, that he 
was undoubtedly conscious of having inflicted many 
injuries on the mendicant friars, and that now as he 
was about to leave this world, they hoped he would 
not refuse to utter his repentance, and to retract 
those charges, which, amid the excitements of life, 
he had laid against the brotherhood. The Reformer 
lay calm and silent till this address was ended. 
Unable to lift himself up, he waved his hand to his 
servants to aid him. Then fixing his eyes on the 
deputation, he exclaimed, with all the energy he 
could command, '^ I-shall not die but live, and shall 
again declare the evil deeds of the friars V^ The 
disappointed monks retreated, and Wycliffe recov- 
ered, to do all that his prediction implied. 

On his restoration to health, the Reformer resumed 
his chair in theology, his pulpit, his pen and his 
parochial visitations. Though the sickness of which 
we have spoken impaired his constitution and laid 
the foundation of that malady which terminated his 
life, yet he seems to have been '' in labors more 
abundant." In 1381, he called the attention of the 
University to his exposition of the Eucharist Re- 
garding the prevalent doctrine of transubstantiation, 



Christianity and Traditionism. 145 

which was received on the ground of church autho- 
rity, as opposed to the evidence of the senses, of 
reason and of Scripture, he did not anticipate much 
progress of the human mind until it was delivered 
from such a vassalage. The simple doctrine of a 
figurative representation of Christ's body in the 
eucharist was the one which he defended, and in this 
far surpassed Luther, who invited the faith of the 
people to repose in the ingenious scheme of consub- 
stantiation, which represented Christ's presence to 
be diffused through the elements like fire in red hot 
iron. Wycliffe exhibited the ordinance in its native 
majesty, as a divinely appointed emblem. The 
priesthood were shocked. The chancellor of the 
University called a convention, the majority of 
whom were monks, who succeeded in suspending the 
teachings of the doctor in theology. Surrounded by 
his disciples, Wycliffe was lecturing on the obnox- 
ious topic, when the officers entered to announce his 
exclusion from his chair. He arose in calnf dignity 
and announced his intention of appealing to the civil 
power. 

Political affairs, however, took such a turn that 
no civil interference was exercised in behalf of Wy- 
cliffe. The court, under Richard, were disposed to 
propitiate the clergy on account of their enormous 
wealth, and this became a favorable moment for 
the enemies of Wycliffe to prosecute their design. 
Under the auspices of Courtney, a synod was called 
to check the spreading heresy, and then a convoca- 
tion at Oxford, before which the Reformer appeared 
in his own defence. His judges, though neither con- 



146 Christianity and Traditionism. 

vinced nor satisfied, yet durst not proceed to vio- 
lence, well knowing how firm a hold he had upon 
the affections of the people. They dissolved his 
connection with Oxford, but they could not extirpate 
his principles. He retired to Lutterworth to diffuse 
his doctrines by preaching and writing. 

It might be naturally inferred from Wycliffe's 
popularity that he was gifted with the power of 
holding intercourse with the multitude by preaching. 
It is true that he delighted in the exercise, revered it 
as the appointment of Christ, and was offended with 
the indignity with which the church of Rome had 
treated it. She supplied the people with ceremonies, 
but withheld the bread of life. So low had this or- 
dinance sunk in the century preceding Wycliffe, that 
Archbishop Peckham complained to the clergy that 
the people were as the '' poor who seek water and 
there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst f 
and the improvement which the metropolitan sug- 
gested was, that a summary of subjects be given to 
each priest, and that he be required to deliver four 
sermons during the year in his own parish ! But 
Wycliffe had impressive views of the dignity of the 
work. In vindicating it, he exclaims, '' Christ, when 
he ascended to heaven, commanded it especially to 
all his apostles, to preach the gospel freely to every 
man. So, also, when Christ spoke last with Peter, 
he bade them thrice, as he loved him, to feed his 
sheep ; and this would not a wise shepherd have 
done had he not himself loved it well. In this 
stands tlie office of the spiritual shepherd. As the 
bishop of the temple hindered Christ, so is he hind- 



Christianity and Traditionism. 147 

ered by the hindering of this deed. Therefore 
Christ told them that at the day of doom, Sodom 
and Gomorrah should better fare than they. And 
thus if our bishops preach not in their own persons 
and hinder true priests from preaching, they are in 
the sin of the bishops who killed the Lord Jesus 
Christ.'^ To a reflecting observer, what an interest- 
ing object must it have been, to behold this man, 
who was skilled in all the subtleties of learning, a 
match for the ablest dialecticians of the times, able 
to lead the way in translating the Scriptures into 
his native tongue, qualified to solve the knotty ques- 
tions of Parliament, and to treat on behalf of his 
country with the ambassadors of foreign courts, 
standing up amidst a rude and untaught peasantry, 
who hung upon his lips to receive the words which 
make men wise unto salvation. The ease and ener- 
gy with which he filled so wide a sphere, prove that 
he deserves to be ranked with minds of the highest 
order that any age or country has produced. 

His method of preaching (to use the term of the 
times) was '^ postulating ^^^ in distinction from '' declar- 
ing,^^ The latter mode consisted in announcing a 
subject and proceeding to deliver an essay upon it. 
The former was expository, consisting of remarks 
upon an extended passage of Scripture, designed to 
prepare the way for an application suited to the im- 
mediate wants of the auditory. 

The great work, however, which employed the 
thoughts and filled the heart of Wycliffe, in the lat- 
ter period of his life, was the translation of the 
Scriptures into the English language. He was the 



148 Christianity and Traditionism. 

first man who gave an English Bible to the world. 
Before his time only fragments existed. The first 
attempt was made in the seventh century, by Ced- 
man, an Anglo-Saxon monk, who presented to his 
countrymen a poem narrating the leading events of 
the Old Testament history. Then followed in the 
eighth century, the Anglo-Saxon version of the 
Psalms, by Aldhelm and Guthlac, and a translation 
of John^s gospel, by the Venerable Bede. The Dur- 
ham book, a manuscript copy of the Gospels in Lat- 
in, with a Saxon version interlined, belongs to the 
age of Alfred. Several other manuscript versions 
of parts of the Scriptures existed in the ninth and 
tenth centuries, but no attempt was made to give to 
the people the Bible in their own language, so that 
the enterprise of Wycliffe was quite a novelty in 
that day. Surely, if by his life he had accomplished 
no other object, he had lived for a noble purpose. 

This great work accomplished, he could say with 
joy, " Lord, now Icttest thou thy servant depart in 
peace.'' Though he bewailed the reigning evils, yet 
he had a serene faith in the triumph of truth. Truth, 
he said, must prevail ; "for to overcome truth, would 
be to overcome God.'' Thus he waited his time. 
He died at his rectory, on the last day of December, 
1384. Having been struck with a paralysis, while 
performing divine service, he was immediately de- 
prived of consciousness, until a voice from on high 
said to his spirit, " Come up hither." 

It is a most wonderful circumstance, that Wycliffe 
was permitted to die peacefully at home. Two con- 
siderations may account for this ; first, the degree 



Christianity and Traditionism. 149 

of interest which was absorbed by the contentions 
between the rival popes, and, second, the power 
which the Reformer had with the people, a power 
which had already caused the failure of the prelates 
in all their efforts to destroy them. But what a 
spirit of consuming vengeance was shown to have 
been smothered in some bosoms, when it broke forth 
at the council of Constance, like the eruption of in- 
fernal flame. That council, called to establish the 
interests of religion, by a pope who had been a 
pirate in his youth, and continued to be one of the 
most reckless profligates of the age, at his bidding 
designated Wycliffe's doctrine as " the abomination 
of desolation standing in the holy place f and while 
they proved their hatred of heresy, in the burning 
of John Huss, and Jerome of Prague, they establish- 
ed for Wycliffe, Jaeyond all dispute, the honor of be- 
ing the Father of the Reformation, the spring of those 
renovating influences which, as they spread, mocked 
all resistance, when they commanded that in case 
his bones could be distinguished from those of the 
faithful, they should be taken from the place of their 
thirty years' repose, and '' cast out to be trodden 
under foot of men.'' They were reduced to ashes, 
and then thrown into the river which runs through 
Lutterworth. It was a happy thought of one, who 
said that " this furnished an emblem of- the spread 
of his doctrine ; for as those ashes were carried into 
the Severn, the narrow seas, the ocean, so did his 
doctrine flow from the province to the nation, and 
from the nation to the many kingdoms of the world." 
In reviewing the history of Wycliffe, and survey- 



150 Christianity and Traditionism. 

ing the vast sphere which he filled, as a lecturer in 
theology, a royal chaplain, a popular preacher, a 
faithful pastor, a powerful writer, the translator of 
the Bible, as the expounder and defender of Chris- 
tian faith and freedom, the chief value of his exam- 
ple will be lost to us, unless we feel the vivid illus- 
tration which his life presents of the truth which the 
Psalmist expressed, when he cried, '' Thy word, 
God, giveth light/^ What object can be more in- 
teresting to behold, than a mind like his, so lofty 
and enlarged, so far beyond his age, at a period 
when men were " groping in the day time as the 
blind, '^ when the light in them was as darkness, di- 
recting their views to those very doctrines which now 
shine out as the brightest stars in the firmament of 
revealed truth. Insisting strongly on the suffi- 
ciency OF THE Scriptures, and the right of private 
JUDGMENT, he brought to light those elements of 
power, which had their developments in the great 
reformation under Luther, and inculcating as he did, 
the great article of justification, by faith in Christ 
alone, the necessity of regeneration by the Spirit, 
the atonement of Christ offered on Calvary once for 
all, and the spirituality of the church, his preaching 
glowed with those truths which touch the deepest 
springs of feeling in the soul of man. It is pleasing 
to perceive what a strong illumination had fallen on 
his mind, while turning toward the Scriptures, as the 
source of instruction ; what clear conceptions he ob- 
tained of their authority, their sufficiency, and the 
true spirit of an interpreter. " I am certain,'^ says 
he, " from the Scriptures, that neither Antichrist nor 



Christianity and Traditionism. 151 

all his disciples, nay, nor all fiends, may really im- 
pugn any part of that volume as it regards the ex- 
cellency of its doctrines. But in all these things, it 
appears to me, that the believing man should use 
this rule ; if he soundly understands the sacred Scrip- 
tures, let him bless God ; if he be deficient in such 
a perception, let him labor for soundness of mind. 
Let him, also, dwell as a grammarian upon the let- 
ter, but be fully aware of imposing a sense upon Scrip- 
ture which he doubts- the Holy Spirit does not de- 
mand ; for such a man, according to St. Jerome, is 
a heretic. And much more he w^ho rashly blas- 
phemes, by imposing a meaning upon the Scriptures 
which the Spirit himself declares to be impossible. 
If we had a hundred popes, and all the friars were 
cardinals, to the law of the gospel we should bow, 
more than to all this multitude." 

Truly, it was the study of the Bible, which con- 
nected with other learning, made him the man that 
he was, which endowed him with power as a preach- 
er, and enabled him so to address the human con- 
science, the imagination, and the heart, as to awake ^ 
an echo in the bosom of the nation. For who can 
be so well prepared to address the conscience, as he 
who has felt that the gospel commends itself to his 
own conscience, and has habitually brought that 
faculty into contact with its truths in all their origi- 
nal grandeur and vividness ? Who so fit to address 
the imagination, as he who has studied the glowing 
poetry of David and Isaiah, and drank at the foun- 

* Note D. " The Bible alone." 



152 Christianity and Traditionism. 

tain of their inspiration ? Who so well prepared to 
address the heart, as he who from the mirror of 
God^s word sees the very recesses of the human 
heart reflected ; has marked the image of his own, 
has mourned over its deformities, and felt within 
him the renovation of the Spirit ? It is the study 
of the Bible which thus gives man power with man. 
It was this which quickened the energies of Wy- 
cliffe's spirit, strengthened him for his great conflict 
with the principalities and powers of darkness, and 
spiritual wickedness in high places ; enabled him, 
unawed by the man of sin, to raise his reproving 
voice in majestic tones which broke the sleep of 
Christendom, and roused a kindred spirit in many 
thousand bosoms. It was this which fitted him to 
break the fetters of tradition, to disenthral the 
church from its vassalage to the priesthood, to make 
the pillars of the papal throne to tremble, and to 
preside as the master-spirit of a storm which was the 
precursor of a new creation in the moral world. 

It only remains that we consider, for a moment, 
how the principles of Wycliffe have fared since his 
day. They were soon carried from England to the 
continent. They found a favorable reception with 
all who sympathized with the spirit of the Waldenses. 
When Wycliffe ceased to bear aloft the torch of 
truth, it was seized by such men as John Huss and 
Jerome of Prague. Colomesius has published a 
letter, which our Reformer wrote to Huss the last 
year of his life, and Jerome we know was a true- 
hearted disciple of Wycliffe. From these great 
lights many inferior ones were kindled, till by the 



Christianity and Traditionism. 153 

time Luther appeared, faint gleams at least were 
seen both in the palace and the cottage. Under 
Luther, Protestantism triumphed, but unfortunately 
Luther never saw what the old Waldenses before 
him had seen so clearly, that the essential principles 
on which he insisted, the sufficiency of Scripture 
and right of private judgment, if followed out to 
their legitimate issue in the ecclesiastical economy, 
would break all formal connection between the 
church and the state, and forbid the existence of a 
religion established and enforced by law. Indeed, 
Luther did not apply these principles to the constitu- 
tion of the church, but sought only by their aid to 
emancipate the essential doctrines of Christianity 
from the bondage of church authority. Therefore 
he says, in his work on Galatians, " Wherefore if 
the pope will grant unto us, that God alone, by his 
mere grace through Christ doth justify sinners, we 
will not only carry him in our hands, but will also 
kiss his feet ; but since we cannot obtain this, we 
again in God are proud against him above measure, 
and will give no place, no, not one hair's-breadth, to 
all the angels in heaven ; not to Peter, not to Paul, 
not to a hundred emperors, nor to a thousand popes, 
nor to the whole world. ^' With these views, we 
need not wonder that when Protestantism conquered, 
it seated itself in a legal establishment, upholding 
an orthodox creed, and a state-paid priesthood. 
Notwithstanding all the boast of freedom, if a 
Christian teacher had, in the exercise of the right 
of private judgment, denied any baptism to be valid, 
except that which was voluntary, and received as a 



164 Christianity and Traditionism, 

profession of personal faith^ he would have been an- 
swered, " hear the church/^ — '' hear the church f 
and the Reformers would have said, as Calvin did, 
'' the church hath taken unto herself the power to 
alter this." In fact, even under the auspices of 
Protestantism, church authority was exalted over 
the Bible, as far as the ecclesiastical economy was 
concerned, while the right of private judgment was 
set free only in the interpretation of Christian doc- 
trines. Two results followed. On the one hand, 
there was a visible church, formal and cold, with a 
dead creed, a body of orthodoxy without a spirit. 
On the other, the individual reason, boasting of 
liberty, and not impressed with reverence for the 
authority of the Bible, inculcated a rationalistic in- 
fidelity under the name of Christianity. Thence, it 
has been remarked by Reinhard, '^ Were Luther to 
rise again from the grave, he could not possibly 
recognize as his own, or as members of the society 
which he founded, those teachers who in our church 
would fain now-a-days be considered as his succes- 
sors. He founded his church in Saxony. We come 
together to thank God for its foundation, but alas ! 
it is no more !""^ In England, too, where Protes- 
tantism boasted of being more staid and sober than 
in Germany, there was less of reckless speculation 
in the church, but still more of a disposition, where 
the controversy with Rome was not involved, to 
give supremacy to church authority in matters of 
faith. The supreme authority of the Scriptures over 

* Reinhard iiber die Kirchen-Verbesserung, 1800. 



Christianity and Traditionism. 155 

. the conscience of the individual, a great and distin- 
guished doctrine of primitive Christianity, found its 
shrine and defenders amongst those who dissented 
from all legal establishments, and who maintained 
the spiritual and voluntary character of the church. 
This principle gave to Dissent its moral power, and 
proved its diffusive energy, by modifying the'opinions 
of multitudes within the pale of the Establishment. 
Thence the devoted friends of church authority have 
become alarmed, and at Oxford, where Wyclifle 
lived, and learned, and taught, have raised anew 
their standard, and, in lifting up the cry of " primi- 
tive Christianity,'^ hope that they have uttered what 
shall prove to be rallying words to a declining 
church. But the august Christianity which they so 
revere as " primitive,'^ is not that which Luke has 
pictured in his thirty years' history of the early 
church, but that whose form is composed of the 
various elements which existed prior to the council 
of Trent. At Oxford, where the seeds of the Refor- 
mation were sown, men are decrying the Reformation 
itself! One of the most enthusiastic and honored 
members of that school has said, " As to the Re- 
formers, I think worse and worse of them ; Jewell 
was what you would in these days call an irreverent 
Dissenter. Really, I hate the Reformation more 
and more, and have almost made up my mind that 
the rational spirit they set afloat is the ip6vdoTiQoq)7jTt]g 
of the Revelations.'' Again : '' I shall never call 
the Holy Eucharist the Lord's Supper ; nor God's 
priests ministers of the word ; nor the altar the 
Lord's table ; nor shall I ever abuse the Roman 



156 Christianity and Traditionism. 

Catholics as a church, for any thing except excom- 
municating us.''^ 

In our own country, at its first settlement, Protes- 
tantism was for the most part established by law. 
Of course, it was not a Protestantism true to its own 
first principles, the sufficiency of the Scriptures and 
the right of private judgment, and it has engendered 
here the same fruits as in Europe ; in one class of 
minds, a supreme reverence for tradition and the 
church, rather than the Bible,t in. another class, a 
disposition to exalt the authority of reason over 
that of the Bible. 

With the one class, the Oxford doctrines are 
gaining ground, and preparing the way for another 
generation to look back to Rome as the true " mother 
of us all,^' with the other class, every fresh conceit 
of a foreign philosophy is hailed as a proof of the 
'* progress of humanity/' The one class, feeling like 
men without firm footing, without a light, without a 
guide, and tired of the dissensions of those around 
them, turn with longing eyes to the boasted unity 
and infallibility of the holy apostolic church ; the 
other class are quite at ease amid the elements of 
strife, call the discord harmony, and are saying, 
" Let every man be his own church/\t 

If we were called to select an emblem which should 
characterize and grace the publications of the one 
class, who prefer the light of church tradition to the 
light of the Bible, we should picture a mariner at 



* Froude's Remains, V^ol. I, p. 379, cfec. 

f Note E. Conversions to the Romish Church. 

:(: Note R The Religious Sentiment 



Christianity and Traditionism. 157 

sea taking an observation to ascertain his course, 
holding up his glass toward a meteor, which he had 
mistaken for the polar star ; for those of the other 
class, who look at every thing by the light of their 
own reason, rather than by that of revelation, we 
should select the emblem of a Dial, and a man with 
a sage philosophic air examining it in the night to 
ascertain the true time by the light of his own candle. 
While these two rival principles, the authority of 
church tradition and the authority of reason, are in 
process of development, happy will they be, who 
shall be found at last to have bowed only to the 
authority of GodJs word, — that word which he hath 
magnified above all his name, of which it hath been 
said, though heaven and earth pass away, yet shall 
it not pass away ; which is pure, enlightening the 
eyes, sure, making wis^ the simple ; which shall 
judge every man in the last day, and prove that the 
world by wisdom knew not God, and that the wisdom 
of the world is foolishness with Him. May we under- 
stand it, love it, obey it, preach it, exemplify it, and 
so link our destinies to its cause, that we shall share 
in all the honors of its triumph. 



APPENDIX. 

Note A. Page 142. 

THE RIGHT OF PRIVATE JUDGMENT. 

The existence of this right, within the realm of 
religion, has been extensively denied both in times 
past and in the present. The Church of Rome has 
denied it. The national Protestant churches of the 
continent of Europe have denied it. A large por- 
tion of the church of England have denied it. By 
this latter class, especially the Puseyites, the denial 
of it has been maintained of late years with intense 
strenuousness. The ground has been taken that pri- 
vate men cannot understand the Bible — that they 
are too liable to be misled by false interpretation — 
that, therefore, there is need of a church-authority to 
interpose between the reader and his Bible in order 
to fix its meaning ; and that to this voice of author- 
ity every individual is bound to listen and submit. 
In all cases of doubt, the advocates of this dogma 
say, * Hear the church ;' and this they propose as a 
panacea for divisions, a sovereign balm for the sore 
wounds of controversy and discord. 

Miserable physicians these ! For when they quote 
Fathers and councils and homilies, they only enlarge 



160 APPENDIX. 



the scope for disputation ; the sense of this or that 
quotation may be as severely contested as the sense 
of an apostle, and new fuel will be added to the 
flames of controversy. Paul's enconium on the suf- 
ficiency of the Scripture is as plain as any homily, 
or the sense of any council, or the words of any 
Father ; and it says, ' all the Scripture is profitable ' 
— for whom ? For the Priesthood, or for a learned 
ministry? Or for the church as a body ? No ; but 
for the individual ; profitable for instruction, that 
THE MAN of God may be perfect and thoroughly fur- 
nished unto all good works. 

So, too, when Christ preached those sermons which 
are recorded in the New Testament, he addressed 
them to individuals, to the consciences of private 
men ; and bade these men by the liglit of the sacred 
Scriptures to examine the teachings of those who 
were the ministers of a divinely appointed church. 
Those teachers themselves he charged with making. 
' God's word of none effect,' and predicted that on 
them the displeasure of Heaven would fall weightily. 
As they sat in Moses' seat he directed the people to 
do those things which they urged on the ground of 
Moses' authority ; but at the same time commanded his 
hearers to discriminate between sound doctrine and 
traditions, to observe the examples of their rabbles, 
and to avoid their works. Quickening the conscien- 
ces, and awakening the private judgment of the indi- 
viduals who came to him with questions, he did not 
say, ' Hear the church ' on disputed doctrines, but 
' What saith the Scripture ?' ' Have ye not read V 
The inquiry with which he met those who brought 



APPENDIX. 161 



to him their doubts suggested by the discussions 
amongst the ' wise men ^ of that age, was, ' Have ye 
not read V — always rousing the indiyidual to feel 
the majesty of God^s oracle — that it was wrong for 
him to turn away from the inspired word to listen to 
the voice of men, and that, if from ' the Father who 
seeth in secret ' he would seek direction, the Father 
himself would reward him openly. 

Nevertheless, while it becomes us to plead for the 
right of private judgment, we must not neglect to 
urge the duty of exercising it. Too many who have 
contended for the right have there stopped, seeming 
to be indifferent whether it were used or not ; and 
if at all, in what way. They have advocated intel- 
lectual liberty, vindicated the people's right against 
the pretensions of ecclesiastical authority, and then 
have coolly regarded it as a thing of no account how 
men treated the word and authority of God. 
., Now, our Saviour not only declared the right, but 
also the obligation to exercise it ; held it forth as a 
solemn duty before God — that in his presence the in- 
dividual stands accountable — that on the manner in 
which he uses this endowment his destiny must turn 
— that pride, prejudice, passion, or unbelief may 
blind him fatally — urging him to search the Scrip- 
tures because they reveal eternal life, saying : ' If 
any man reject my Word he hath one that judgeth 
him : the Word that I have spoken, the same shall 
judge him in the last day.' 

These are soul-stirring considerations — arguments 
of awful moment. It is a solemn thought that such 
a responsibility rests on every man, and inheres in 



162 APPENDIX. 



his immortal nature — that we are all under sin, and 
have a message from God touching the remedy which 
we must consider and act on, or perish — that there 
is only one Being in the universe who can save us, 
even Jesus Christ — that if we go astray from Him, 
no ministry of man whether apostolic or non-apos- 
tolic can redeem ns — that if any priesthood, or 
church, (so called) cause one to err, it cannot help 
him in the end, but that such priesthood, or church, 
and the deluded individual, incur the peril of perdi- 
tion together, because ^ he that believeth on the Son 
hath everlasting life, but he that believeth not the 
Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth 
on him.' Blessed, indeed, is he who readeth and un- 
derstandeth the words of this Book ! 



Note B. Page 143. 

GIBBON^S GREAT MISTAKE. 

It is a remarkable fact that in spite of all the ob- 
jections to Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall 
of the Roman Empire, the genius and learning of 
Christendom have never been able to displace it by 
another work. In the realm of history, he alone has 
wrought a finely arched bridge spanning the chasm 
which separates the ancient from modern civilization. 
It were devoutly to be wished that the constructor 
of such a pathway for the feet of successive genera- 
tions had been a true Christian. Yet it is well 
worthy of notice that to almost all the sceptical ob- 
jections against Christianity to be found in the vol- 
umes of Gibbon, one answer will suffice. This an- 
swer is that his ideas of Christianity are not derived 
from a pure source — not from the New Testament, 
but from the church-history of ages succeeding that 
of Christ and the Apostles. His suble shafts have 
no force against our holy religion as taught by the 
Saviour and his disciples, but only against that spu- 
rious Christianity which developed itself in State- 
Establishments after it had been more and more 
deeply corrupted by the mixture of worldly ele- 
ments. 

This view of the case has been obvious to many, 
and must arrest the attention of any reader who has 
been accustomed to distinguish between the Chris- 
tianity of the New Testament and the Christianity 



164 APPENDIX. 



of what is called Church-History. This distinction, 
and the effect of overlooking it, are well stated by 
Milman, in one of his notes, in which he says : ^' The 
art of Gibbon, or, at least, the unfair impression pro- 
duced by these two memorable chapters, (the fifteenth 
and sixteenth,) consists in confounding together in 
one undistinguishable mass, the origin and apostolic 
propagation of the Christian religion with its later 
progress. The main question, the divine origin of 
the religion, is dexterously eluded or speciously con- 
ceded ; his plan enables him to commence his ac- 
count, in most parts, below the apostolic times ; and it 
is only by the strength of the dark coloring with 
which he has brought out the failings and the follies 
of succeeding ages, that a shadow of doubt and sus- 
picion is thrown back on the primitive period of 
Christianity. Divest the whole passage of the latent 
sarcasm betrayed by the subsequent tone of the whole 
disquisition, and it might commence a Christian his- 
tory written in the most Christian spirit of candor." 
In this note the learned editor of Gibbon utters a 
true testimony ; and in this connection it is instruct- 
ive to remember the fact that Gibbon was educated 
among Christians who did, themselves, confound 
these different things and habitually overlook these 
very distinctions. The celebrated History of which 
we speak, illustrates the effect of this confusion on 
the mind of an independent thinker. He had not 
been taught to regard the New Testament as the 
one simple, all-sufi&cient standard of Christianity, but 
to look for that standard in church-tradition, or 
church-history. The same error is now committed 



APPENDIX. 165 



and defended, not only by Papists, but by Pro- 
testants of various names ; by Puseyites, and by all 
who agree with the Lutheran school of Pennsylvania, 
under Dr. Schaff, in the doctrine that Christianity, 
as a religion, was gradually developed in ages suc- 
ceeding that of the Apostles. Multitudes, adopting 
this belief, are not satisfied with the Scripture as a 
sufficient guide to faith and practice, but to look to 
tradition and history for the standard or canon by 
which to settle the question — what is Christianity ? 
This principle is well adapted to raise up other Gib- 
bons in time to come, by throwing back dark shad- 
ows of doubt and unbelief over the divine origin of 
Christianity itself. Men of naturally tame and timid 
mind, and all men in whom sentiment predominates 
over intellect, will be easily led by such a principle 
into the labyrinths of superstition ; while men of 
bold, inquiring spirit, will bound away from it over 
the trackless wastes of infidelity. Hence, the prin- 
ciple itself, harmless as it may seem to some, is more 
dangerous than any system of avowed and open in- 
fidelity ; it is a '' cockatrice's egg," smooth and fair 
to the eye, but capable of developing from within it- 
self a double progeny of poisonous vipers. 

The Christianity of the New Testament is one 
thing ; the Christianity of Tradition is another 
thing. The word of the Lord — that shall stand. 
The material heavens and earth may pass away ; 
that '* shall not pass away." The system which is 
built on that rests on eternal rock ; every other 
foundation is of wood, hay and stubble, that can not 
stand the crucible of God's refining fires. 



Note C. Page 146. 

BEAUSOBRE ON THE AUTHORITY OF 
^'THB FATHERS." 

Beausobre was a very learned French writer of 
the seventeenth century. He was a warm-hearted 
Protestant, a powerful preacher, and wielded an 
effective pen. When the royal signet was put upon 
the door of a Protestant church in France, in order 
to prevent public worship, he broke the signet, and 
on that account was forced to be an exile. In the 
year 1694 he went to Berlin, and became chaplain 
to the Court of Prussia. We read many things, 
now-a-days, which remind us of a passage of his 
writings on the authority of " The Fathers. '^ He 
says, in his critical history of Manichaeism, '' Some 
will charge me with speaking disrespectfully of the 
Fathers. I grant, some expressions may have escaped 
me, which I might have softened ; but then, narra- 
tions notoriously false, or monstrously exaggerated, 
bad reasonings, a blind belief of every thing reported 
to disgrace heretics, a reigning passion to render 
their persons odious — all this irritates an equitable 
mind. But what provokes beyond all patience, is 
to see that selfish abuse which some writers make 
of the names and testimonies of the Fathers. A 
sort of false reasoning which I call the sophism of 
authority^ hath been long introduced, and now con- 
tinues to be applied to the most pernicious purposes. 
Reason and religion are oppressed, and in order to 



APPENDIX. 167 



defend opinions evidently false, and practices grossly- 
superstitious, a sentence is quoted from an ancient 
writer, and puffed off with the vain title of a saint 
and a great saint. People, on hearing this superb 
title, are seduced into an imagination that they 
hear an oracle, and sincerely believe that justness 
of thought, accuracy of expression, solidity of reason- 
ing, and demonstrative evidence are necessarily con- 
nected with saintship, and great saintship. They 
even fancy that such men were under the immediate 
influence of the Holy Spirit, inseparably connected 
with their writings. Reason, abashed and timid, 
durst not resist ; or if it dare be so bold, admirers 
of antiquity will exclaim first at presumption and 
pride, and last at heresy. In vain Jesus Christ said, 
*^ One is your Master ;" and Paul, " Be ye not the 
servants of men.^' Never did Constantine VI. dis- 
cover more wisdom and prudence than when he for- 
bade the title of sai7it to be given to any except the 
Apostles. He saw the abuse, and endeavored to 
correct it. I esteem and honor the Fathers, but I 
do not think them infallible, either as evidences of 
a fact, or as just reasoners, from facts allowed to be 
true. Even they who incessantly plead for their 
authority, occasionally criticise them. They have 
done more. They have corrupted their writings in 
an infinite number of places, and this they call cor- 
recting them.^^ 

These remarks are as worthy of attention in the 
present age, as they were when first published. It 
would seem as if some men had been given up to the 
power of judicial blindness, and to the superstitions 



168 APPENDIX. 



of a corrupt Christianity, for the sin of forsaking 
Christ, to follow the authority of men. Even now, 
how few there are, comparatively speaking, who, 
before joining a church, come reverently to the New 
Testament, resolved to find a church in that, and 
that alone. How many, bearing the name of Pro- 
testants, regard the New Testament as containing 
only the germs of Christianity, while the full devel- 
opment is to be looked for in church history, tradi- 
tion, and the books of the Fathers. Oh, that they 
could understand the sufficiency of the Scripture, and 
the voice of him who saith, " I am the Light of the 
world ] he ihsitfolloweth me, shall not walk in dark- 
ness, but shall have the light of life.'' 



Note D. Page 161, 

"THE BIBLE ALONE." 

From several notices which have appeared in the 
English papers, we perceive that the friends of evan- 
gelical religion in the Church of England, are grad- 
ually concentrating their forces in definite plans of 
action for the purpose of church reform. One grand 
design which they have in view, is the alteration of 
the Prayer-Book, so as to exclude from it those ele- 
ments of Popery which now mar its pages, and to 
render it more exactly conformable to the Word of 
God as the only standard of Christian faith. Lord 
Ashley is a prime leader in this movement. A 
metropolitan association has been organized to act 
in concert with kindred societies already formed in 
various sections of the country, and there is good 
reason to believe that there is nigh at hand some 
great change of sufficient moment to be reckoned as 
an historical era. 

While these things are in progress, the Puseyites 
are daily manifesting their affinities with the Mother- 
Church,"* and are rallying their energies, for a des- 
perate onset against " the Evangelicals.'^ The signs 
of the times indicate that there are now gathering 
in England the elements of a religious excitement 
unparalleled since the days of '' the great Reforma- 
tion,'' and that the same questions which then agi- 
tated Christendom are coming up afresh. But, 
thanks to God, they are coming up in a very dif- 



170 APPENDIX. 



ferent state of the world. The fires of Smithfield 
cannot now be kindled ; the rack and the thumb- 
screw cannot now be used as means to enforce con- 
viction ; but the controversy must be determined by 
moral forces only, and the final issue will furnish a 
grand commentary on the saying that is written, 
•' Thou hast magnified thy word above all thy 
name.'' 

Nevertheless, while the contest waxes warm be- 
tween traditionism on the one hand, and evangelical 
religion on the other, it is an interesting question, 
What relation does popular infidelity hold to the 
general progress of opinion? Infidelity has doffed 
its old garbs and titles, and now stands forth as the . 
friend and champion of the masses, under the banner 
of Christian liberalism. It " lifts up an ensign to 
the people,'' and we see emblazoned on its waving 
folds, those taking words, " Social Reform." It 
openly professes to honor Christ and to hate the 
church. It wars against Popery and it scoffs at 
evangelical religion. It declares in the language 
of Ronge, that " if Roman Catholics have a Pope at 
Rome, the Protestants have made their Pope of a 
book, and that book is a dead letter." It afiirms 
that the disciples of Jesus have, hitherto, misunder- 
stood him, that his kingdom is of this Vv^orld ; that 
Socialism is Christianity adapted to the times, cre- 
ating all tilings new, and aiming to produce on earth 
a heaven of peace and plenty. It is far mightier in 
Europe than in America ; it is attracting multitudes 
to its camp ; in view of the great moral battle of 
civilization, it deems itself '' the immortal phalanx,'' 



APPENDIX. 171 



and has been called by some intelligent writers, the 
great moving power of the European mind. What, 
we ask, is its real relation to Popery, to Christianity, 
to Society ? 

Hugh Miller, in his " First Impressions of Eng- 
land and its People^' — says, '' That which, apart from 
religious considerations, is chiefly to be censured 
and regretted, in the zeal of the Ronges and Shen- 
stones, Michelets, and Eugene Sues, is, not that it is 
inconsistent, but that it constitutes at best but a 
vacuum-creating power. It forms a void, where in 
the nature of things, no void can permanently exist, 
and which superstition is ever rushing in to fill ; and 
so the progress of the race, wherever it is influen- 
tially operative, instead of being conducted onwards 
in its proper line of march, becomes a weary cycle, 
that ever returns upon itself. The human intellect, 
under its influence, seems as if drawn within the 
ceaselessly revolving eddies of a giddy maelstrom, 
or as if it had become obnoxious to the remarkable 
curse pronounced of old by the Psalmist : I quote 
from the version of Milton : 

" My God I oh, make thein as a loheel ; 
Ko quiet let them find ; 
Giddy and restless let them reel 
Like stubble from the wind." 

History is emphatic on the point. Nearly three 
centuries have elapsed since the revived Christianity 
of the Reformation, supplanted Roman Catholicism 
in Scotland. But there was no vacuum created ; the 
space previously taken up in the popular mind by 



172 APPENDIX. 



the abrogated superstition, was amply occupied by 
the resuscitated faith : and as a direct consequence, 
whatever reaction in favor of Popery may have 
taken place among the people, is of a purely politi- 
cal, not religious character. With Popery as a 
religion, the Presbyterian Scotch are as far from 
closing now as they ever were. But how entirely 
different has been the state of matters in France ! 
There are men still living, who remember the death 
of Voltaire. In the course of a single lifetime, 
Popery has been twice popular and influential in 
that countr\^, and twice has the vacuum-creating 
power, more than equally popular and influential 
for the time, closed chill and cold around it to 
induce its annihilation. 

The literature of Prance, for the last half century, 
is curiously illustrative of this process of action and 
reaction — of condensation and expansion. It ex- 
hibits during that period, three distinct groups of 
authors. There is first, a group of vacuum-creators 
• — a surviving remnant of the Encyclopedists of the 
previous half century — adequately represented by 
Condorcet and the Abbe Raynal ; next appears a 
group of the reactionists, represented equally well 
by Chateaubriand and Lamartine ; and then — for 
Popery has again become monstrous — we see a 
second group of vacuum-creators in the Eugene 
Sues and the Michelets, the most popular French 
writers of the present day. And thus must the 
cycle revolve, " unquiet and giddy as a wheel,'' until 
France shall find rest in the Christianity of the New 
Testament. 



APPENDIX. 173 



These apt remarks of the Scotch Geologist well 
illustrate the conservative power of a simple New 
Testament religion, and exhibit the truth and value 
of the great Protestant principle — " The Bible alone, 
the rule of our faith. ^' They contain, moreover, 
although not so intended by him, a striking com- 
mentary on that remarkable promise which God 
sent from heaven to the church in Philadelphia by 
the mouth of the beloved apostle : ^' Because thou 
hast kept my word I also will keep thee.^^ And so 
it was. The church of Philadelphia stood in the 
early ages like a column amid ruins. Here piety 
was fed at the fountain of pure truth, and this made 
her adequate to every emergency. In the Divine 
Word itself there is a mighty conservative power, of 
which, at the present day, Scotland presents a fine 
exemplification. In no country of the world, is 
Scriptural knowledge more widely diffused among 
the people, and therefore, while England is destined 
to reel under the shocks of Papal and anti-Papal 
excitement, Scotland will stand firm on the rocky 
grounds of her faith, and survey the troubled scene 
with the serenity of a sage and friendly observer. 



Note E. Page 166. 

CONVERSIONS TO THE ROMISH CHURCH. 

For a considerable time past, it has been a sub- 
ject of remark in the religions circles of this country, 
that here and there were to be seen sons and daugh- 
ters of American Protestants abandoning the temples 
where their fathers worshipped, and seeking repose 
for their souls in the rites and forms of the Romish 
communion which claims to be the Holy Catholic 
church. These changes have occurred not amongst 
the uneducated and the ignorant, but in some fami- 
lies who have been known in the most favored walks 
of life. To many, these changes have been an occa- 
sion of astonishment. In this feeling we have not 
participated ; we have often wondered that such 
changes were so rare, considering that such multi- 
tudes of American youth grow up, amidst associa- 
tions nominally Christian, without any clear concep- 
tion of the evidences of Christianity, or of the claims 
of the Bible as a divinely inspired and infallible 
standard of faith. 

In every Christian country, where there is free- 
dom of conscience and means of knowledge, the- 
greatest danger to the religious sentiments of the 
community arise, not from a bold and open Infi- 
delity, but from the natural tendency of the human 
soul in its fallen state to seek rest and peace in 
religious Formalism. This was the course of things 
in the time of Christ. The Jews gloried in a divine 



APPENDIX. 175* 



revelation, but He told them that they made it void 
by their traditions. It was not effectually denied 
or opposed, but overlaid by a human authority that 
boasted of a divine origin, and professed to be armed 
with divine sanctions. This is the very pretension 
of the Catholic church, and connected as it is with 
the plea of a sacred antiquity, with a gorgeous 
system of worship, with an organized priesthood, 
with a unity of aim and effort, with an artful adap- 
tation to character, and with every possible 'appli- 
ance for addressing the imagination and the senses, 
it must present a strong attraction to many restless 
and inquiring souls, who, having been " tost to and 
fro " with the agitations of scepticism, have never 
learned that the Scripture is a supernatural and 
divine counsellor, ^' sure, making wise the simple.'' 
Recoiling from the issues to which Infidelity would 
lead them, and scared back from its course by the 
social evils which they have seen disclosed, bewil- 
dered with doubt, groping their way without a 
guide, seeing no light worthy of trust, they are often 
lured at last to find rest and peace in the sweet per- 
suasion that they may lay the responsibility of their 
salvation on a holy priesthood commissioned to dis- 
pense it, and yield to a safe and heavenly repose in 
the bosom of a '' true mother church.'' In this way 
it is, that the more widely either sheer ignorance or 
learned Infidelity prevails in any land, the more 
numerous the conquests which the Romish church 
will be sure to gain. Infidelity may hate her, but 
is too weak to resist her. A simple, wide-spread 
faith in God's word alone can accomplish that. 



176 APPENDIX. 



And if in time to come Transcendentalism, (or 
Parkerism, as it is locally named,) shall make pro- 
gress here, just in that proportion will another 
generation see a mighty rush of educated, earnest 
intellectual American youth to the serene shelter 
of the Papal throne, the altar, and the confessional. 
Indeed, it is in this way that Rome calculates to 
regain Germany. Thus she did regain France. 
She reasons, that the free inquiry of Protestantism 
will produce infidelity ; and then, tired of the social 
turmoil and chaos of infidelity, men will be glad to 
return to the church for peace, just as the dove of 
Noah with wearied wing, turned from the stormy 
sea to the ark of safety. And so it is likely to be 
in the end, unless a lively faith in the word of God 
can be restored to half-apostate Germany. That is 
the only conservative element for that land or for 
this. Such a faith alone can preserve us from a dis- 
organizing Infidelity on the one hand, and an oppres- 
sive superstition on the other. 

From this view ef the case, no reflecting Christian * 
can fail to see the argument which hence arises for 
earnest effort to promote the study of the Bible, to 
have our youth " rooted and grounded ^' in its evi- 
dences and principles. Christian parent ! are your 
children educated thus ? Can they " give a reason 
to every man that asketh ^' for receiving the New 
Testament as a divine revelation ? If not, in spite 
of their respect for you, they may become the victims 
of a fatal infidelity, and die, at last, the devotees of 
that Christless superstition which Rome is so intent 
and so busy to propagate. The church history of all 



APPENDIX. 177 



the past is one impressive comraent on the truth and 
bearing of the message sent from Patmos to an 
ancient church, " because thou hast kept the word 
of my patience, I also will keep thee from the hour 
of temptation which shall come upon all the world, 
to try them that dwell upon the face of the earth. '^ 



Note F. Page 166. 

*^ THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT." 

In the conversation of multitudes, in the dis- 
courses of modern Transcendentalists, in the writ- 
ings of those who claim to be ^^ liberal Christians/' 
we hear and read much which implies an utter igno- 
rance of the great distinction between spiritual 
Christianity and the natural development of the 
religious sentiment in man. All sincere religionists 
are regarded as developing essentially the same sen- 
timent under different forms of culture, and the dif- 
ference between one and another is considered as 
being merely accidental. This is the view which 
the old eclectics took of the matter, for they endea- 
vored to cull out something good from all schemes 
of religion, and to nourish their religious sentiment 
from the best parts of every system. And there are 
many among us now, talking and writing in favor 
of Christianity, who cherish the same doctrine, nor, 
— although they have the New Testament in their 
hands — ^have they ever advanced one step beyond 
this exploded Greek philosophy. 

It ought to be remembered, however, that what 
we denominate the religious sentiment is a part of 
the human constitution, which may manifest itself in 
most impressive forms without any connection what- 
soever with goodness, virtue, truth • or holiness. 
Every kind of superstition, the most irrational, dia- 
bolical, and cruel, is a manifestation of the religious 



APPENDIX. 179 



sentiment. It is as really a part of every man's na- 
ture, whether he be good or bad, as is conscience, 
memory, or social affection. Nevertheless, we meet 
with those who, looking over the world, and seeing 
in Pagan lands what immense treasures are lavished 
on temples, altars, and sacrifices, will say " these 
people are very religious and very sincere ; and their 
worship, therefore, must be as acceptable to God as 
that of others V^ Then, surveying the state of things 
in a Mahometan country, and seeing the Musselman's 
exact observances, they tell us, " these people are 
very strict and sincere religionists, and, doubtless, 
their system is best for them /^^ Then, in a Catholic 
country, like Italy, observing the multitude of priests 
and worshippers, the regular attendance at matins 
and vespers, the confessions, feasts, fasts, penances, 
and prayers, they will say, " these people exhibit a 
very sincere devotion, and we cannot but admire the 
strength of their religious sentiment !'^ Still fur- 
ther, looking at a community in which a simple and 
evangelical Christianity gives tone to public charac- 
ter, they will gravely say, " here the religious senti- 
ment is strongly developed, and we cannot but sym- 
pathise with this simplicity and earnestness of devo- 
tion. '^ This is the language of religious eclecticism. 
It confounds things that differ in their nature. It 
attributes dignity to a religious system according to 
the degrees of energy with which it brings out the 
religious sentiment ; whereas, this sentiment often 
appears the strongest in the worst of men ; as was 
seen in the case of an Italian bandit who was hired 
by Pope Sextus Fourth to murder two members of 



180 APPENDIX. 



the family of the Medici that were hostile to him. 
After much deliberation, the Cathedral was the spot 
fixed upon for the assassination to be effected, amidst 
a solemn service ; on which account the robber re- 
fused to act his part, saying, that although he was 
accustomed to commit murder^ he was not used to 
sacrilege ! Nevertheless, a priest was found who 
consented to combine both crimes in a single act, 
for the pleasure of the Pope and the welfare of the 
church. 

This view of the character which pertains to the 
religious sentiment, was expressed by Paul in his 
discourse on Mars • Hill at Athens. From the place 
of his observation he saw the whole landscape stud- 
ded with temples, statues, and altars, with fanes ded- 
icated to all the gods whose names were known, and 
an altar to the God that was unknown. According 
to the English version, the Apostle commenced his 
address by an expression not remarkably fitted to 
conciliate the attention of his fitful audience, charg- 
ing it upon them as a national folly that in all things 
they were " too superstitious,'^ and citing as a proof 
of it, the erection of an altar to that God whom he 
desired to preach to them. But, as Dr. Campbell has 
ably shown, what Paul really said was to this intent 
— that he had observed the Athenians to be in all 
things a very religious people. He remarked that 
among them the religious sentiment was highly cul- 
tivated. In this he said nothing that was disparag- 
ing, neither did he pay them any compliment. He 
merely asserted an obvious fact ; for, the religious 
aentiment, in Itself, like social affection, is neither 



APPENDIX. 181 



good or bad, except according to the direction which 
is given to it. It may be so perverted as to foster 
all that is low and wicked in our fallen nature, 
while, under the guidance of a renovated heart it 
may fit the soul for the companionships of heaven. 

But this religious eclecticism, which '' sees good 
in every thing," which aims to bring virtue and vice, 
sin and holiness, heaven and hell together into one 
beautiful system, is not a plant which our '' Heaven- 
ly Father had planted,'^ but a vine of Sodom, full of 
deadly poison. It is very fashionable in some quar- 
ters, pervades all the Transcendental literature, is 
the very life of Parkerism, and imparts its hue to 
much that is distinctively Cambridgian. Its spirit 
was fairly expressed by a certain picture-vender, in 
whose shop-window appeared a colored engraving 
of the celebrated dancer, Madame Taglioni, in one 
of her most meretricious attitudes, along-side of a 
likeness of Rev. Dr. Lyman Beecher. The incon- 
gruity of the arrangement being noticed, he was un- 
derstood to say, 

" 0, there is so much that is angelic, almost di- 
vine, in Taglioni^s dancing — and surely there is 
much that is good and heavenly in Dr. Beecher^s 
preaching I" 

The fact deserves record ; for it is one of the 
*' signs of the times," a true expression of the spirit 
of the age is the direction of " eclecticism.^- 

In our view it is a matter of small moment to ask, 
in what degree a system develops the religious sen- 
timent which is common to man ; but it is a matter 
of vital importance to ascertain whether that senti- 



182 APPENDIX. 



ment be brought under the control of a renewed 
heart, to develop itaelf in accordance with the law 
of truth and righteousness as set forth by Jesus 
Christ ; whether the great object towards which it 
turns the affections be the God of purity and love ; 
whether it lead a man to worship the Sovereign of 
all in acts of faith, gratitude, and cheerful obedience. 
This is the great question touching a religious sys- 
tem, whether by it the religious sentiment is brought 
" into captivity to the obedience of Christ." Other- 
wise, the more of the religious element there is in 
any system the more deleterious it is, like that Is- 
raelitish eclecticism, under whose influence " the 
people worshipped the Lord and served their own 
gods," sacrificed lambs and offered swine's blood, 
killed oxen and slew men, burned incense to Jeho- 
vah and invoked the idols of the heathen. 



CHRISTIAN GREATNESS 



IN THE 



APOSTLE ST. PETER. 



ST . PETER. 

" Its apostles, lowly fishermen !" This brief sen- 
tence, from the lips of an eminent orator, enfolds an 
argument for Christianity, by bringing to view an 
impressive contrast between the splendor of its early 
triumphs and the humble means employed for its 
propagation. The Christian history affords no finer 
realization of the spirit of this argument, than that 
which is embodied in the life and character of St. 
Peter. Of obscure parentage, a Galilean by birth, 
bred to hard manual labor, unknown in his youth to 
the leaders of society, destitute of every scholarlike 
accomplishment, it has been his, nevertheless, to wield 
a sceptre of moral power over the civilized world ; 
and, having achieved a sublime mission, to leave 
among men a name which still dwells on the lips of 
millions throughout those realms which once owned 
the dominion of the Cassars^ but where the names of 
the Cassars are now recalled only by the mute me- 
morials of a perished empire. 

A peculiar and well-marked character has always 
distinguished those who " go down to the sea in ships 
and do business on the great waters.'^ In our day 
they are known, as a class, by a certain freedom and 



186 St. Peter. 



boldness of soul, a generosity amounting to self-for- 
getfulness, a highly sensitive nature having in it a 
dash of the poetic element, a genial enthusiasm with 
a tone of lofty daring, a passionate impetuosity, 
strangely chastened at times by a serious spirit and 
a power to execute the most sober purposes. The 
alternate rest and stir, the tedium and excitement, 
the tameness and sublimity pertaining to the scenes 
of sea-life, have operated on men in every age with 
a degree of uniformity in producing this style of 
character, of which Peter, in his earlier days, ap- 
pears to have been a fair representative. All the 
nobler features of it he retained to the last ; but his 
Master^s discipline so effectually raised what was 
low, and strengthened what was weak, that he be- 
came " as another man.^' A hint of this great change 
to be wrought in him, was given by our Saviour on 
his first meeting with this disciple ; for he said to 
him, " Thou shalt be called Cephas,^' or as the 
Greek express it, Peter — that is a rock : intimating 
that he who was naturally rash, fitful and impulsive, 
should become a man of adamantine firmness, of 
granite-like strength, able to sustain the weighty 
burdens that were to be laid upon him, and to resist 
the shocks of a hostile world. 

Some of the most interesting events in St. Peter^s 
history, are associated with ^^ the sea of Tiberias." 
It was only sixteen miles in length, and four in 
width ; yet was called a sea, as the Jews denominat- 
ed any large collection of waters. Indeed, we some- 
times do so ourselves ; as, for instance, a certain ex- 
panse in the Hudson river is called *' Tappan Sea.*^ 



St. Peter. 187 



The original name of the lake was Chinnereth, from 
a city on its banks which is mentioned in the Book 
of Judges. This was corrupted into Gennesaret. 
On the site of this old city, Herod built a new one, 
which he named Tiberias, in honor of the Roman 
emperor ; and this new city gave a new name to the 
lake, as we are reminded by the use of the phrase in 
John's gospel. A fine sheet of water is always a 
beautiful addition to a landscape : but when we can 
connect it with the names or fortunes of those whom 
we delight to honor, the charms of the scenery are 
wonderfully enhanced. Then memory loves to lin- 
ger around it ; the plains or mountains that encircle 
it have new beauty, and all its shores are sacred. 
Under the magic spells, which such associations awak- 
en, must the disciples have indulged many a retro- 
spect of Gennesaret. There the pious fishermen, 
who had been accustomed to live upon its surface, 
had been called by the Saviour to be " fishers of 
men." There they had seen marvellous displays of 
their Master's power. There, in the sunshine and 
in the storm, in the soft moonlight and in the dark 
night-tempest, they had communed with Nature in 
her varied aspects of grandeur and of loveliness ; 
but, more than all, there they had seen their Lord 
walk upon the deep as if it had been a marble pave- 
ment, and when he said to the rough surges, " Be 
still !" all were hushed to peace. There Peter had 
received his call to leave the employments of his 
youth, and to enter the school which was to fit him 
for his apostleship. It was on that occasion that 
the disciple, awe-struck by a view of Christ's divine 



188 St. Peter. 



majesty, revealed as it had been in the miraculous 
draught of fishes, fell trembling at his feet, exclaim- 
ing : " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 
Lord !'' At once, the calm voice of Jesus soothed 
the slgitation of Peter^s spirit, and inspired him with 
a holy confidence as it announced the exalted mis- 
sion which he was destined to fulfil. 

If the genius of a Salvator Rosa, so much at home 
upon the sea, were employed in placing on the can- 
vas, scenes in the life of Peter, with what power 
would it set before us the contrast between the atti- 
tude of the trembling disciple while prostrate on the 
shore, and that bolder one in which he afterwards 
appeared, when, with unshrinking step he trod the 
threatening billows, that there he might greet and 
adore his Master ! It was night. The storm was 
on the deep. " The ship was tossed with the waves." 
The skill and strength of the Galilean crew were not 
an equal match for the raging elements. The ter- 
rors of the hour would naturally awaken a feeling 
of wonder that their Lord should have '* constrained" 
them to embark on an errand to which the powers 
of heaven seemed so adverse. Confidence and hope 
were fast dying away ; a sense of loneliness had al- 
ready given place to a mental gloom more terrible 
than the roar of the tempest, when, dimly in the dis- 
tance, a human form was seen moving at ease upon 
the agitated waters. It came nearer ; it was clearly 
discerned by all ; one thought flashed on every mind, 
and that thought was^ " This cannot be flesh and 
blood." A solemn dread, which is common to men 
when confronted in any way with the supernatural, 



St. Peter. 189 



took full possession of every breast ; and doubtless, 
it was with tremulous tones that they said one to 
another, '' It is a phantom/^ There they stood gaz- 
ing on that strange sight, each realizing in himself 
the words of the ancient Temanite — " In thoughts 
from the visions of the night fear came upon me, and 
trembling, which made all my bones to shake ; then 
a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh 
stood up ; and I heard a voice/^ But the voice 
which they heard was of no unearthly sound. Calm- 
ly, sweetly, and in tones familiar to their ears, it ad- 
dressed to them a message, such as stormy v/inds had 
never wafted before : " It is I, be not afraid.*^ The 
heart of Peter answered to that appeal ; for, what a 
sublime faith was that which filled his soul, w^hen, 
rising superior to all mortal weakness, or mortal 
strength, he sought permission to hasten and meet 
Jesus, while yet he lingered on the swelling surge ! 
He asked for no promise, no pledge of help ; but 
when Christ bade him " come,'' with what buoyant 
energy he stepped from the quivering plank upon the 
forbidding wave ! What a moment of triumph was 
that ! Not Moses himself, when he stretched his 
mystic rod over the Red Sea ; not Elijah, when from 
the top of Carmel he called fire from heaven to at- 
test his mission, can be said to have taken firmer 
hold on the arm of Omnipotence, or to have exerted 
a more kingly sway over the powers of nature. In 
the picture-language of ancient Egypt, a pair of feet 
Avalking on the water was the emblem of an impos- 
sibility ; and the scene of this eventful night must 
have interpreted to the mind of Peter the sense and 



190 ' St. Peter. 



scope of that remarkable promise — '^ Nothing shall 
be impossible to you.^' 

In surveying human character, we find no feature 
of it that calls forth from every beholder an admira- 
tion more profound than that high-souled *' decision/' 
which John Poster has so nicely analyzed, and so 
beautifully developed in one of his immortal essays. 
When it appears on great occasions, even in a bad 
or doubtful cause, and on a conspicuous theatre of 
action, it wins universal applause ; but when, apart 
from the gaze of men, it rises superior to the pre- 
judices of education, to popular opinion, to worldly 
ambition, allies one's fortunes with those of truth 
alone, and then comes forth to brave obloquy, scorn, 
and death itself at the bidding of conscience, it ex- 
hibits the highest degree of moral sublimity. Espe- 
cially is it so, when the enduring courage which 
pertains to decision of character is not pre-eminently 
the gift of nature, but is seen to spring from moral 
causes, and to inhale its life from the realm of spir- 
itual truth where faith expatiates as in a congenial 
element. In such an aspect of true dignity does 
Peter appear before us when he boldly avows his 
belief in the Divine mission of our Saviour. Having 
been called upon by his Master to state what was 
the public sentiment touching this point, he declared 
that it regarded Jesus in no higher view than that 
of an ancient prophet revisiting the world ; then, 
being questioned as to his own belief, he expressed 
his calm conviction that the man of Nazareth was 
God's promised Messiah. That moment was a great 
era of his life. In this fearless confession Jesus re- 



St. Peter. 191 



cognized the spirit that could " bear all things/^ that 
could stem the current of popular error, wrestle 
against principalities and powers, and '* endure unto 
the end.'' Then, with a remarkable force of expres- 
sion, did he pronounce his disciple '' blessed,'' con- 
firmed him in his apostleship, and gave to him a 
clearer revelation than had before been made of the 
exalted ministry to which he had been chosen. 

No one who considers the temperament of Peter, 
what brilliant hopes of an honored and successful 
apostleship had been awakened within him, can be 
surprised at the signs of worldly ambition which he 
sometimes betrayed, and for which he received the 
most keen reproofs. He had been taught to believe 
that the Messiah's kingdom would shortly come ; 
but as to the nature of that kingdom, and the char- 
acter of its triumphs, his views were very dim. The 
glowing imagery of the ancient prophets he had un- 
derstood somewhat literally ; and the announcement 
that his Lord should be crucified as a malefactor 
jarred so harshly against the tenor of his expecta- 
tions, that he regarded it, probably, as a figurative 
expression. The predictions of his Master, on this 
point, he never understood until the facts ultimately 
explained them. How hard must it have been for him 
educated as a Jew to look for that " anointed king ' 
who was destined to restore the throne of 'David to 
more than its former splendor, to construe aright 
any intimation that the throne of the true Messiah 
was to be a cross, and that a wreath of thorns was 
to be his diadem ! No wonder is it that, with his 
views, he even '' began to rebuke " his Lord for hint- 



192 St. Peter. 



ing at a fate so mysterious. After he had visited 
the Mount of Transfiguration, where Moses and 
Elias had come to confer with Jesus, where, instead 
of a frail tabernacle of flesh, a celestial glory had 
invested him, where a voice like the voice of the Al- 
mighty had uttered the testimony, " This is my be- 
loved Son,^' no wonder is it, that the disciple should 
be questioning to the very last, even on the final 
journey to Jerusalem, '' what the rising from the 
dead should mean." Neither is it any wonder, if 
we study the character of Peter by the light of his 
previous history, that when he found all his bright 
imaginings dispelled in an instant, when he saw his 
Master captured by his foes, dragged to the high- 
priest's palace, and treated with scorn as ft weak im- 
postor, by a triumphant government, when he found 
that his own sword, instead of being made omnipo- 
tent for defence like a blade '' bathed in heaven, '^ had 
been bidden back to its sheath — no wonder is it, we 
say, that he should have become as another man ; 
that his courao-e. which had been nourislied bv false 
conceptions, should have abandoned him ; that his 
reason should have fled, like a pilot swept from the 
helm by a resistless wave, and that he who had just 
defied all the powers of earth to move him from his 
loyalty, should have reeled from his giddy elevation 
into an abyss of hopeless despondency. The fall of 
Peter is an event well adapted to instruct mankind 
in every age, but not to excite that feeling of won- 
der which springs from the contemplation of a mys- 
tery. 

The '' long-deferred hope " of Peter, that Jesus 



St. Peter. 193 



would triumph over death bj baffling his enemies, 
or by causing them to quail before some word of 
power, like that beneath whose blasting energy he 
had seen the fig-tree wither away, probably inspired 
him with enough of curiosity and courage, in spite 
of his unhappy mood of mind, to linger around the 
high-priest^s hall of judgment, in order to witness 
the scenes of the trial which was fast hastening to 
some fearful issue. He would fain have kept him- 
self apart from the throng, that he might avoid the 
peril of being recognized. The exhaustion which 
had caused him to sleep amid the chills of the night 
in the garden of Gethsemane, had now brought on 
that sense of cold which led him to approach the 
fire of coals which the officers had kindled on the 
pavement of the court. A gleam of light fell on his 
anxious features ; and, at once, a maid of the palace, 
whose quick eye caught their expression, charged 
him with the crime of discipleship. One thought 
now engrossed his soul ; that thought was conceal- 
ment ; and, in obedience to it, the lie by which he 
denied the charge leaped from his lips as quickly as 
the sword had leaped from its scabbard in the gar- 
den. More ill at ease than ever, he walked out into 
the porch, where another maid appealed to the men 
around him with the exclamation, '' This fellow, also, 
was with Jesus of Nazareth ;" and, doubtless, for a 
moment, he supposed that he had quelled all sus- 
picion after he had backed his denial by his oath. 
But when the high-priest^s servant, whom Peter had 
struck, recognized his assailant with the cry, '' Did I 
not see thee in tlie garden with him ?' ' — when the 



194 St. Peter. 



attending officers took note of his Galilean accent 
with the taunt, '' Thy speech bewrayeth thee/^ his 
chafed spirit rose to cope with the emergency, and 
driving back his accusers with denials, oaths, and 
curses, he broke away from the perils that lurked 
around that ill-fated spot. 

To the group who witnessed his style of action, 
Peter must have appeared as a brave and determined 
man. Had he been a hypocrite, a mere worldling, 
like Judas, he would have plumed himself on his 
daring and his success. He would have justified his 
conduct by the law of necessity, and solitude would 
have been less painful to him. But when alone, he 
came to himself. The shrill cock-crow which hailed 
the morning's light fell upon his ear, and " opened 
all the cells where memory slept.'' His eye had 
met his Master's glance, and that had moved the 
deepest springs of sensibility within him. He went 
out, he shrunk from the sight of friends as well as 
foes ; he writhed in the agonies of self-rebuke, and, 
by himself, ^' wept bitterlj^" 

After the record of this event the allusions to 
Peter in the New Testament are very brief, until he 
is brought to our view again at the Sea of Tiberias. 
Having become assured, while in Jerusalem, of the 
resurrection of Christ, he returned to Galilee ; the 
other apostles accompanied him, and were assembled 
at his house in Capernaum. For purposes of hospi- 
tality, in order, probably, to procure the means of 
entertaining his brethren, he excused his absence 
one evening, by saying ^' I go a fishing.'^ With 
hearts all sympathy, they replied, " We also go with 



St. Peter. • 195 



thea." So, as the darkness and stillness of the night 
favored their design, they seek the lake instead of 
their beds. Bred to their business from early youth, 
they were, no doubt, expert fishers ; but now they 
labored in vain. The night wore heavily away. In 
the gray dawn of the morning, they observed a 
stranger standing on the shore. He hailed them 
with a friendly voice, saying, '' My sons, have ye 
any thing to eat ?'' They answered, " No ; we have 
toiled all the night, and have caught nothing." He 
encouraged them to try again ; " Cast the net on 
the right side of the ship, and ye shall find." They 
did as they were bidden, and at once the net was 
full. This effect of the stranger^s advice revealed 
his character. '' The beloved disciple " was the first 
to discover it. Love is eagle-eyed, and the heart 
often gives a hint to the head. In this discovery, 
John '' outran Peter ;" for John was more calm, 
collected, and discerning. But as soon as that short 
sentence, ''It is the Lord," fell on Peter's ear, he 
was all zeal, all himself again. That one fact filled 
and fired his heart ; and forgetting all danger, the 
net of fishes and the need of his assistance, he thought 
only of being at his Master's feet. Girding on his 
outer garment, he plunged into the sea, hastening to 
meet Him whom he adored. 

On that shore, a breakfast had been provided for 
the company ; and this social repast became an era 
in Peter's history. In the presence of his brethren 
our Lord now turned to the fallen apostle — to liim 
who had said in their hearing, '' though all men for- 
sake thee, yet will I never forsake thee " — and asked 



196 St. Peter. 



of him, " Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me more 
than these V^ That was a searching question. Peter 
felt it. He knew its meaning. He remembered his 
frailty. He could boast no more. But he was con- 
scious of an honest love. And, aware that Christ's 
piercing eye was on him, he durst boldly avow it. 
But he could go no further. He could draw no 
comparisons. He could not glory over his fellow- 
disciples. He was humbled, yet strengthened. He 
only answered, " Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I 
love thee.'' That was enough. His tone and manner 
were beautifully chastened, and the delicate inquiry 
involving a comparison with others was not repeated. 
On receiving this reply, Christ immediately raised 
Peter from the degradation of his fall, confirmed him 
in the apostleship, and renewed his commission. 

But where Peter's sin abounded, " grace much 
more abounded ;" and, as Peter had thrice denied 
his Master, when Christ forgave him he intended to 
confer on him a threefold confirmation in his sacred 
ofi&ce. Hence he demanded of him, a second and a 
third time, an avowal of his love. This threefold 
repetition awakened in Peter's mind sad reminis- 
cences, opened afresh the fountains of penitential 
grief, and drew forth from him an appeal to Jesus, 
as the searcher of all hearts, for a recognition of his 
sincerity. Thrice he received from his injured Lord 
a special apostolic charge ; and now, reinstated in 
the sight of all his brethren, he could sing, " Thou 
hast restored unto me the joy of thy salvation, and 
hast upheld me with thy free Spirit ; therefore will 
I teach trangressors thy ways, and sinners shall be 



St. Peter. 197 



converted unto thee." From that hour onward, to 
the close of his career, he rose superior to the weak- 
nesses of his nature, betrayed no more the fitful 
impulses of his early character, and nobly sustained 
the dignity of his Christian name. His quick and 
fiery temper was disciplined to a rock-like firmness 
under his Master's hand, and he became as a mighty 
lion tamed to the harness. 

After the apostles had witnessed the ascension of 
our Lord from Mount Olivet, they returned to Jeru- 
salem, and were assembled for many successive days 
in that ^' upper room " which had already been con- 
secrated as their place of worship. From that time, 
Peter appears as their chosen leader. Although he 
was never clothed with a formal or official supre- 
macy, he was well fitted for a leadership, which all 
freely conceded to him. At his suggestion, a new 
apostle was elected to fill the place of Judas. At 
the great festival of Pentecost, when men of all 
nations were convened at the Jewish metropolis, the 
college of apostles were gathered around Peter while 
he proclaimed the truths of Christianity. Under 
the influences which attended his first discourse, 
three thousand converts were added to the church. 
Not only did he stand forth in the public view as 
the counsellor of his brethren, the expounder of their 
doctrines in the temple and the synagogue, but as 
their orator and advocate in halls of judgment. 
The transformation of character in him and in them, 
was wonderful. Jesus had said to them, " Behold, 
1 send you forth as sheep among wolves f and, if 
at any time in field or forest we should see a harm- 



198 St. Peter. 



less sheep confront the ravening wolf, it would not 
be a spectacle more strange than that which was 
seen in Jerusalem, when the men who had fled terror- 
stricken from their Master^s side, stood serenely 
forth in Sanhedrim and courts to speak in his name, 
to vindicate his doctrines, and to enforce his pre- 
cepts. If the modern reader would receive a true 
impression of the sublimity of those scenes, let him 
imagine a poor Castilian peasant summoned to the 
gloomy court of the Spanish Inquisition ; not turn- 
ing pale with fear, but standing there with a calm, 
undaunted aspect, and speaking forth words of truth 
with the simplicity of a child, the energy of a prophet, 
and the noble bearing of a martyr. 

When we consider the apostolic eminence of Peter, 
the moral grandeur of his position, the unsullied 
character which he exhibited, the dignity of his 
public life, we are tempted to wish that the sacred 
history had shed a clearer light on the closing period 
of his earthly course. We know not the time or 
manner of his death. His epistles indicate that he 
lived to an advanced age. The learned and diligent 
Michaelis has shown good reason to believe, that he 
wrote them from the Chaldean Babylon, and that 
there, amid the scenes around which clustered hal- 
lowed memories of Ezekiel and Daniel, he spent the 
last days of his apostleship. The renowned temple 
in Rome, which bears his name, is said by some to 
have been built on the site of his tomb. There is 
no proof, however, that his mortal remains were 
ever laid in a Roman sepulchre ; but we are rather 
led to the conclusion that He who caused the body 



St. Peter. 199 



of Moses to be hidden from the Israelites, permitted 
also the body of the Apostle to rest in some quiet 
seclusion, that none might be tempted to oJBfer his 
saintly relics the incense of an idolatrous worship. 
From his home in the far East, he sent his last 
epistle to the great Christian family, declaring to 
tliem that his Lord had shown him that he ^' must 
shortly put off this tabernacle." That tabernacle 
has long since mingled with its kindred dust ; but 
his works survive it, his name is still fragrant, his 
recorded words are living oracles, and as an inspired 
apostle, " having authority," he still sits on his throne 
judging the tribes of Israel. 



CHRISTIAN GREATNESS 



IN 



THE MISSIONARY. 



CHRISTIAN GREATNESS 



THE MISSIONARY 



ACTS XIII. 36. 

" For David, after he had served his own generation by the will of God, fell on 

sleep." 

Fathers and Brethren of the Missionary Union : 
The year that has passed since we were last as- 
sembled has been marked by two events, to each 
of which belongs the dignity of an historical era. 
One of these events is the completion of the half 
century. While now, as from a " mount of vision," 
we look back upon the scenes which it has un- 
folded, we hail with joy new proofs of the fulfill- 
ment of those promises which woke the lyres of 
ancient prophets, and catch new glimpses of a pro- 
found plan for the redemption of our fallen race 
which the Almighty is urging forward to a glorious 
consummation. Never before, within as brief a 
period, has man acquired so great a power over the 



204: Cheistian Greatkess 

elements of material nature ; never before have 
those great truths, which are the germs of auspi- 
cious changes in society and government, been so 
widely spread among civilized nations ; and never 
before has Christianity gained such substantial con- 
quests in those vast Eastern realms where the su- 
perstitions of Boodh and Brahma have brooded, for 
so many centuries, over the minds of benighted 
millions. 

It was a law of ancient Israel, that every fiftieth 
year should be hallowed as a jubilee; and surely 
the Christian Israel has never had more fitting oc- 
casion than that which is furnished by the present 
time, to lift up the song of triumph and of hope. 
At the opening of this period, a ''darkness that 
might be felt" covered the face of Europe ; the 
moral earthquake, which convulsed France to its 
centre, vibrated throughout Christendom ; the old 
world was rocking on its foundations, and the 
wisest of statesmen, philosophers, and philanthro- 
pists despaired of the fortunes of the race. But 
amid those scenes of portentous gloom, the Scrip- 
ture was verified which saith, "Light is sown for 
the righteous ;" the spirit of missionary heroism 
was then kindled afresh, as with the breath of the 
Almighty ; the churches of Christ were then rally- 
ing for a concerted onset against the powers of 
darkness in those lands where their sway had been 
undisputed ; the small beginnings that were the 
jeer and mock of worldly wisdom have thriven 
into an enterprise which has won the homage of 
the world ; a deep presentiment of defeat has struck 



In the Missionary. 205 

through the heart of heathenism, and the Chris- 
tians of Europe and America call to each other in 
joyous songs, that celebrate the spreading victories 
of the Cross. 

The other event to which we have referred is the 
death of that distinguished leader of the missionary 
enterprise, Adoniram Judson, whose eyes were 
closed upon the scenes of earth on April 12th, 1850, 
while on a voyage to the Isle of Bourbon, and whose 
mortal remains were then consigned by friendly 
hands to an ocean grave. The narrative of his ca- 
reer forms an important part of the early history of 
the nineteenth century. His life and fortunes are 
identified with the rise and progress of American 
Christian missions. To him may be applied the 
words of God respecting the patriarch Abraham : 
"I called him alone, and blessed and increased 
him." As soon as he had welcomed to his heart 
the quickening hopes which Christianity inspires, 
he desired to impart them to the perishing heathen ; 
his desires were soon ripened into a heroic pur- 
pose ; and, having been blessed with talents emi- 
nently practical, he immediately concerted measures 
for carrying that purpose into effect. The prose- 
cution of those measures was steadily carried for- 
ward through forty successive years ; and then, 
having '' served his generation by the will of God, 
he fell on sleep." His works live after him. He 
has left a fragrant name, and his biography is to us 
a priceless heritage. His life is an epoch from 
which a new missionary era is to be reckoned. 
Eighteen centuries ago, when the Apostle of the 



206 Christian Greatness 



Gentiles, having heard the imploring cry of the 
Macedonian suppliant, ''Come and help us," em- 
barked from the shore of Troas to obey that call of 
Heaven, if a Livy or a Yirgil, just arrived from the 
court of Augustus, had gazed on the vessel as she 
spread her sails to cross the ^gean sea, neither of 
them would have seen in the fact before him any 
thing worthy of commemoration in history or in 
song, although we, who survey the past at a glance, 
can see, in that event, Christianity passing over 
from Asia to Europe ; so, doubtless, when our own 
Judson first left these shores on a missionary er- 
rand, his embarkation suggested nothing to the 
worldly poet or historian deserving of special note, 
but to our retrospective view it exhibits a glorious 
fact in human history — Christianity going forth 
from her asylum in the new world, to react with 
renovating energy on the old. Yes ; we see that 
Christianity, which has here turned the wilderness 
into a garden, looking back to the continent whence 
she sprang, and moving forth to repair the ancient 
wastes, to cause the desolations of Asia to rejoice 
in the bh om and freshness of a new spiritual life 
from on high. 

Among the means of instruction which the 
Divine Spirit has employed in the sacred Scrip- 
tures, biography holds an important place. Of 
true history it has been well said, it is " the biog- 
raphy of nations. There are, too, distinguished 
men, whose memoirs embody the life and spirit 
of a whole people, or of a particular period. Biog- 
raphies of great men may be divided into two 



In the Missionary. 207 

classes : the first embracing those who truly repre- 
sent the spirit of their age ; the second comprising 
only those who struggle for the triumph of truth 
against their age. To the first class belong the 
biographies of such men as Peter the Hermit or 
St. Bernard, at whose beck nations rallied to en- 
gage in crusading wars ; the biography of Napo- 
leon, the representative of martial genius and the 
idol of millions ; the life of Thomas Jefferson, 
whose words and deeds embodied the prevailing 
spirit of American democracy. In the second class 
of biographies, we may properly place that of John 
de Wycliffe, whose course on earth was a contest 
for one momentous truth — the supremacy of God's 
Word as the standard of faith ; that of Luther^ and 
of Melancthon, who struggled for the great doc- 
trine of justification by a living faith, instead of 
dead ceremonies ; that of Roger Williams, whose 
commonwealth embodied the clear conception of 
the universal right of man to religious liberty, as 
an essential element of Christianity. This latter 
class of men do not represent the spirit of their 
age or the opinions of a people ; they are prophets 
of the future ; they represent ideas which, strug- 
gling for mastery, become the property of succeed- 
ing times. They identify their fortunes with the 
success of a principle ; they enshrine in their hearts 
some great truth, unwelcome to their generation, 
and feel themselves impelled to go forth as its her- 
alds, to conquer as its champions, or die as its 
martyrs. Among the men of this high order, as 
far as the elements of character are concerned. 



208 Christian Greatness 



Adoniram Judson holds a distinguished place, al- 
though he was permitted by the benignity of Provi- 
dence to share the fortunes of the former class. In 
the very prime of his manhood he became a be- 
liever in Christ ; and then, looking abroad over the 
face of the earth, his thoughts were engrossed by 
this one appalling fact, that the majority of his 
species were groping amid the gloom of paganism. 
In connection with this fact he meditated deeply 
on that last command of his risen Lord which 
made the evangelization of the human race the 
great life-work of his disciples. At once the path 
of duty shone clearly before him. To him the writ- 
ten mandate was a call from Heaven, and his an- 
swer to it was as devout and prompt as was that 
of the converted Saul to the voice which addressed 
him from the skies. No angel's message, no vision 
of the night, no new revelation was needed to mark 
out his course ; the wants of humanity moved his 
sympathies ; the Great Commission gained the 
homage of his conscience ; and although the drift 
of public sentiment, the prevailing opinions of the 
Church, and the counsels of human wisdom sup- 
plied no genial encouragement, it was enough for 
him to know that he was treading in the footsteps 
of inspired apostles, and walking in the light that 
beamed from the oracles of God. 

And now, we who are assembled here, who have 
been accustomed from year to year to observe his 
doings, to sympathize with his hopes and fears, to 
pray for his success, have met as mourners at his 
funeral. We say one to another, " A great man is 



In the Missionary. 209 



fallen in Israel." Although he lived far from us, 
he was knit to our hearts by subtile ties far stronger 
than those of family or kindred ; although Barmah 
was the land of his adoption, we felt that, as by a 
spiritual presence, he lived among us — that his 
form and countenance were as familiar to our 
thoughts as if he had belonged to our own house- 
hold circle. Nevertheless, our sorrow^ for his loss 
is tempered and elevated by the joy that springs 
from remembering what great things he lived to 
accomplish ; so that, instead of calling for a solemn 
and plaintive dirge to express the emotions awak- 
ened by this occasion, we would rather unite in a 
song of praise and thanksgiving for the guardian 
Providence that so long watched over him for the 
extraordinary gifts with which the Divine Spirit 
enriched him, " for the good- will of Him that 
dwelt in the bush, and for the blessing which came 
upon the head of his servant, and upon the top 
of the head of him that was separated from his 
brethren." 

Desirous as we are, at this time, to commemo- 
rate the services of our departed missionary, to 
treasure up in our hearts the spirit of his great ex- 
ample, it shall be our aim, so far as we may be 
able in the time allotted to this service, to contem- 
plate 

THE PROMINENT POINTS OF HIS HISTORY THE CHAR- 
ACTER WHICH IT DEVELOPED — AND SEVERAL LESSONS 
WHICH IT SUGGESTS. 

Adoniram Judson was born at Maiden, in the 



210 Christian Greatness 

neighborhood of Boston, on the 9th of August, 1788. 
He was the son of a Congregational clergyman, and 
was favored, of course, in the days of his boyhood, 
with the means of religious knowledge. His early 
youth, however, furnished no evidences of true ' 
piety : so far from this, when he was graduated at 
Brown University, in the year 1807, he was not a 
believer in Christianity. If not an avowed Deist 
of any particular school, he was skeptical as to the 
reality of divine revelation. The first impulse of his 
mind toward a better state appears to have sprung 
from a calm conviction of the folly and the peril of 
suspense in relation to a subject so momentous on 
the part of one who is neglecting the means of in- 
vestigation. On this account he devoted himself 
to a sober inquiry respecting the evidences of the 
Christian religion, of which the result was a thor- 
ough change of his opinions. The way was thus 
prepared for his conversion, by which we mean the 
cordial submission of his heart to the teachings of 
the gospel. This happy issue did not follow at 
once. While lingering in this city, he happened, 
one day, to take down from the shelf of a private 
library a volume which, at that time, was a favor- 
ite household book among Christian readers. It 
was ''Human Nature in its Fourfold State," by 
Thomas Boston, a minister of Ettrick, in Scotland. 
The work was perused by young Judson with pro- 
found attention, and from it he derived new views 
of sin and of redemption. His spiritual nature was 
now agitated to its very depths, and in this state 
of mind, without having obtained the mental peace 



In the Missionary. 211 

which he craved, he sought admission to the Theo- 
logical Seminary at Andover, with the hope of re- 
ceiving that knowledge of the truth which maketh 
wise unto salvation. He was not disappointed. 
His request having been complied with, after a 
short period, the doctrines of the gospel were dis- 
closed to his view in all their divine simplicity, 
and the gloom of skepticism gave place to an intel- 
ligent and joyous faith. 

IS^o one will wonder that after the experience of 
so great a change he should have wished to diffuse 
the light which he had received, even unto the ends 
of the earth. Another book, tliat now came in his 
way, was destined to exert a mighty influence upon 
his life and character. The celebrated discourse of 
Dr. Buchanan, entitled ^' The Star in the East," 
kindled the spark of Mr. Judson's missionary zeal 
into a flame, intense and unquenchable. It im- 
parted to his deep and indefinite longings a practi- 
cal aim, and seemed like the voice of God sum- 
moning him to his field of action. At such a 
bidding he was read}^, like Abraham, to go forth 
alone, ''not knowing whither" he might be led; 
but in disclosing his views to others, he found in 
Samuel J. Mills, Samuel Nott, and Samuel Newell 
congenial spirits, whom the Head of the Church 
was preparing for the same exalted destination. 

At that time there was not an association of any 
kind on the continent of America to which these 
young men could look with an assurance of counsel 
or support. The churches of this country had been 
planted by men who had fled as exiles from European 



212 Christian Greatness 

oppression, and their minds had been engrossed in 
seeking security and freedom for themselves. Some 
ejfforts had been made for the evangelization of the 
Pagan natives in their immediate neighborhood, 
but there had been no attempt to penetrate the vast 
realm of Heathenism on the old continents, and 
there was but a dim conception of the enlarged, 
aggressive spirit of Christianity which is breathed 
forth in the words of " the Great Commission." 
IsTo wonder is it, then, that Mr. Judson resolved to 
seek aid and co-operation across the Atlantic. He 
opened a correspondence with the London Mission- 
ary Society, received answers of encouragement, 
and was invited to visit England. Nevertheless, a 
memorial in behalf of himself and his youthful co- 
adjutors was addressed to the Massachusetts Asso- 
ciation at Bradford in June, 1810, the result of 
which was the formation of the American Board 
of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. Under 
their direction he sailed for England in the year 
1811, in order to arrange a plan of co-operation be- 
tween the two societies. He was captured by a 
French privateer, was imprisoned at Bayonne, was 
released on parole, obtained an imperial passport, 
and proceeded to London for the prosecution of his 
errand. We have reason to rejoice that no concert 
of action was effected ; that the new society was 
urged to pursue an independent course, and that 
hence, from the day of weak beginnings and of 
doubtful existence, it has put forth an influence 
which now encircles the globe like a zone of 
light, and has gathered a moral strength by 



In the Missionary. 213 

which it shall outlast the greatest of earthly em- 
pires. 

After Mr. Judson's return to America, he so- 
licited an appointment from the board, which met 
at Worcester in September, 1811, having fully de- 
termined that if his request were not granted 
he would enter the missionary field under the pa- 
tronage of the London society. The board was im- 
pelled to a decisive movement; and, having con- 
cluded to attempt a mission in Burmah, amid many 
conflicting hopes and fears, bestowed appointments 
on Messrs. Judson, Newell, Nott, and Gordon 
Hall. It was a deed of unpretending character, 
but never to be forgotten ; the capital link in a 
chain of grand events whose memory coming ages 
shall "not willingly let die.'' 

And here our thoughts naturally revert to her 
whose name will ever awaken the most refined and 
elevated conceptions of a true womanly character 
and of a sublime moral heroism. It was at this 
time that Ann Hasseltine identified her earthly for- 
tunes with those of our adventurous missionary, 
and by her own footsteps marked out that path- 
way, through an untrodden field of enterprise, in 
which a noble company of her countrywomen have 
since followed, and around which they have shed 
an imperishable lustre. In abandoning the sweet 
associations of a New England home which domes- 
tic afifections, intellectual culture, and refined so- 
ciety had invested with more than an ordinary 
charm, in order to carry the blessings of the gos* 
pel to a distant land, to a sickly clime, and a de- 



214 Christian Greatness 

graded nation of idolaters, she did not follow at the 
beck of any high example, nor enjoy a gleam of 
light from any honored precedent, but, like the 
companion of her covenant, pursued her course 
over a trackless waste, guided by faith alone; 
" endured as seeing Him who is invisible," as- 
sured that his providence would go before them 
as a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night. 
And so it was. Although in' the view of a cool, 
worldly prudence she appeared only as the victim 
of a poetical illusion, the sport of a wild spirit of 
religious romance, the history of her life has 
proved that she had formed a just conception of 
the work which she undertook — of the means 
suited to its accomplishment ; that she was ani- 
mated not only by a lofty enthusiasm, but also by 
a true practical wisdom, whose combined forces 
urged her forward in her career with an ardent 
energy " which the nature of the human mind for- 
bade to be more," and which the dignity of the ob- 
ject '' forbade to be less." One of the finest tributes 
ever paid to the character of American females has 
been drawn forth by our missionaries from an emi- 
nent English prelate, the Bishop of Calcutta, who 
has attested his high estimation of their virtues, 
their accomplishments, their piety, and of the 
mighty influence which they are exerting on the 
moral destinies of Asia. They form an order 
of women to whom, at some distant day, the 
pen of history will do justice, as having been the 
glory of the nineteenth century : and at the 
head of that order, wreathed with unfadinir 



In the Missionary. 215 

honors will stand the name of Ann Hasseltine 
Judson. 

Soon after he had received his appointment, Mr. 
Judson was married at Bradford on the 5th of 
February, 1812 ; on the 16th was ordained in the 
Tabernacle Church at Salem ; and in company 
with his wife, together with Mr. and Mrs. Newell, 
embarked at that port in the brig Caravan, under 
the command of the generous-hearted Capt. Heard, 
on the nineteenth of the same month. Their voy- 
age was prosperous ; they soon became naturalized 
to the sea, and w^ere able to employ all their time 
in studious preparation for their work. The cabin 
of the Caravan became a consecrated and memor- 
able place, and may be properly called the cradle 
of the American Baptist Missionary enterprise. 
There, amid much devout study and many prayers, 
occurred that remarkable change in Mr. Judson's 
opinions as to the constitution of the Christian 
Church which brought him into immediate con- 
nection with the Baptists of this country. Going 
forth from his native land to rear Christian churches 
where no foundation had been laid, and where he 
could not proceed ''in another man's line of things 
made ready to his hand," it seems not strange that 
he should have sought light from the oracles of 
God, and should have studied with profound atten- 
tion the principles, the teachings, and the practices 
of the inspired apostles. Expecting, as he did, to 
meet at Calcutta the venerated Dr. Carey, and 
Marshman, and Ward, the pioneers of Christian 
missions in India, it is not wonderful that their dis- 



216 Christian Greatness 

tinguishing sentiments should have arrested his at- 
tention. What he regarded as apostolic baptism, 
they treated as an innovation of later times. He 
had been charged to baptize converted heathen 
and all their infant offspring ; they would adminis- 
ter the solemn rite of dedication to none but be- 
lievers on a profession of personal faith. Accus- 
tomed as he was to habits of independent thought, 
revering the Scriptures, too, as the only and suffi- 
cient rule of faith, we do not wonder that he 
resolved to examine these questions thoroughly, 
and to follow with unfaltering step whithersoever 
Truth should lead the way. His investigations 
led him to embrace the doctrines which we pro- 
fess ; his reasons have been published to the world, 
and, whatsoever may be thought of them, none 
can doubt that his conduct in this instance illus- 
trated the purity of his motives, and exemplified 
that lofty conscientiousness which is an essential 
element of true Christian heroism. 

Mr. Judson and his company arrived at Calcutta 
on the 18th of June, and accepted the hospitalities 
of the missionaries at Serampore, with whom they 
entered into friendly deliberations as to the field 
which they should occupy. Their counsels, how- 
ever, were suddenly embarrassed by their receiving 
from the local government an order directing them 
to return immediately to the United States. The 
East India Company, a body of merchants which 
had received its first charter of incorporation from 
Queen Elizabeth, on the last day of the sixteenth 
century, had gradually acquired a vast territorial 



In the Missionary. 217 

influence, and was now holding in its hand the po- 
litical destinies of India. Intent only on the estab- 
lishment of its power, it was jealous of the hum- 
blest effort to diffuse Christianity among the native 
population ; and, although a benign Providence 
has rendered its prosperity subservient to the pro- 
gress of true religion, it has at various times com- 
mitted the moral errors which are ever incidental 
to the policies of men whose highest law of action 
is derived from the oracles of Mammon, and who 
honor commerce as the supreme interest of hu- 
manity. 

In these trying circumstances, our missionaries 
petitioned the government to modify its order so as 
to allow them to go to the Isle of France, which is 
often called by its older Dutch name, Mauritius — 
an island of almost circular form in the Indian sea, 
somewhat less than fifty miles in diameter, and in- 
habited chiefly by the descendants of old French 
families. It had lately fallen into the possession 
of England ; but at the period of which we speak 
the English claim to it had not been confirmed, as 
it was afterward, by a treaty with the government 
of France. Here it was that the little group of 
persecuted missionaries, after many perils and 
many interpositions of a guardian Providence, 
found their first field of labor in the Eastern world. 
The island arose before their view in the " great 
wide sea" as a welcome refuge, like that hillock, in 
a wider waste of waters, where the wandering dove 
of Noah " rested the sole of her foot" and plucked 
the leaf of olive which was a presage of better days. 



218 Christian Greatness 

But although at the Isle of France they were 
treated with great kindness, although they were 
urged to make it a permanent residence, and re- 
ceived a promise from the Governor that he would 
befriend and patronize the mission, yet they could 
not regard it as a field suited to their wishes. They 
desired to preach Christ to pagans who had never 
heard of him, and to occupy some moral centre 
whence the light might radiate afar. "With these 
views, Mr. and Mrs. Judson left the island, which 
had become associated with tender recollections, 
especially as the burial-place of Mrs. Harriet New- 
ell, who fell a victim to the incidental hardships of 
lier voyage thither, in the very prime and bloom 
of her life. They embarked for Madras with the 
hope of obtaining a passage to Penang ; but as 
Madras is the seat of one of the presidencies of 
Hindostan, they lied from it in haste, driven by the 
fear that the order for their return to America 
would be renewed. The first opportunity of escape 
from the dreaded dominion of the East India Com- 
pany was furnished by an old unseaworthy vessel 
vessel bound to Rangoon ; in this they ventured, 
and, after a perilous voyage of twenty-two days, 
arrived safely at this chief port of the Burman em- 
pire. Thus were they led in a mysterious manner 
to the land of their original destination ; all friend- 
ly counsels and all hostile oppositions were render- 
ed alike subservient to their earliest wishes, that 
they might bear the light of truth to the most 
deeply necessitous, and raise the standard of the 
Cross in some chief citadel of Oriental lieathenism. 



In the Missionary. 219 

The American missionaries, having taken their 
position beyond the bounds of British India, now 
breathed more freely ; they enjoyed the favor of 
the viceroy, and devoted their whole energy to the 
acquisition of the Burman and Pali languages. In 
the course of the following year intense exertion 
had impaired the health of each of them ; but 
neither medical skill, nor rest, nor change of air 
and scene imparted an influence so balmy and re- 
viving as did the intelligence received from this 
country, that our churches had answered to their 
appeals, and that the Baptist General Convention 
for missionary purposes had been formed under 
auspicious circumstances. There are many among 
us here who remember what a genial enthusiasm 
was awakened, from Maine to Georgia, when 
Luther Rice returned to his native land to aid in 
organizing our missionary operations. He, too, 
had been a student at Andover, had joined the 
Judsons in Calcutta, had united with them in their 
change of sentiments and of ecclesiastical relations, 
and had left them in the Isle of France on this new 
mission of love to the Baptists of the United States. 
His labors were not in vain ; he was hailed with a 
universal welcome, and in recalling that period of 
his ministry, he had reason to say to many a church, 
in the language of an apostle, " Ye received me 
even as an angel of God." 

The reinforcement of the Burman mission, three 
years after its establishment, gave a fresh impulse 
to the mind of Mr. Judson. At first, when he had 
found himself surrounded with people of the Mon- 



220 Christian Greatness 

golian race who had never been touched, as yet, by 
the slightest influence of European civilization, a 
strange gloom invested every scene ; this, however, 
was gradually dispelled by an engrossing interest 
in his labors and by indications of success. The 
arrival of Mr. Hough, carrying with him a printing 
press, which was a present from Dr. Carey and the 
brethren at Serampore, shed new light over his 
prospects.. It is diflicult for us adequately to con- 
ceive of the profound delight with which the soli- 
tary preacher at Rangoon hailed the accession of a 
fellow-worker, and also of that mighty instrument- 
ality of which he was wont to say, '' every pull of 
the press sends a ray of light through the empire of 
darkness." 

From that time Mr. Judson pursued his daily 
work with renovated energy under the inspiration 
of brightening hopes. Judging from the tone and 
spirit of his letters, " the mountains and the hills 
w^ere breaking forth before him into singing." He 
had favor with the rulers and the people. A spirit 
of inquiry was spreading itself around him. Even 
the emperor, who had come into collision with the 
priesthood, had been heard to ask for light respect- 
ing ''the new religion." Although no conversion 
had occurred, yet while the press was pouring forth 
editions of tracts, catechisms, and gospels, the heart 
of the missionary was elate with confidence. It 
was early in the year 1817 that he first heard from 
the lips of a Burman, and that, too, an intelligent 
and respectable man, the acknowledgment of an 
eternal God. ''I can not tell," said he, '>how I 



In the Missionary. 221 

felt at that moment." This first gleam of intellec- 
tual conviction, touching thegreat error of Boodh- 
ism, he welcomed as the harbinger of that full efflu- 
ence of light which is yet to irradiate the moral 
firmament of Burmah. 

In spite of many difficulties arising from Mr. 
Judson's unfortunate detention while absent on an 
errand to Chittagong, and also from the recall of 
the friendly viceroy of Rangoon by the court of 
Ava, the good work went forward, slowly, but 
surely. The thirtieth of April, 1819, became mem- 
orable in the history of the mission. Until then, 
the missionaries had lived in comparative seclu- 
sion, and had put forth no efforts of 2i public char- 
acter. On that day a new step was taken involving 
new hazards. A zayat was opened for preaching 
and worship. There, about two months afterward, 
a small assembly was gathered to witness the re- 
ception of the first Burman convert into the Chris- 
tian Church. Moung Nau, a man who was thirty- 
five years of age, openly renounced Boodhism, 
made a satisfactory confession of his faith in Christ, 
then left the zayat, proceeded with the company to 
a small lake, on whose margin stood an immense 
image of Gaudama, and there, in the rite of bap- 
tism, "witnessed a good profession." On the fol- 
lowing Sabbath, the fourth of July, .this first 
Burman disciple received the Lord's Supper, 
which was then, for the first time, administered in 
two languages. Moung ISTau adorned his profes- 
sion, rendered to the church much valuable service, 
and remained faithful nnto death. 



222 Christian Greatness 

We have now traced the course of Dr. Judson 
from the scenes of his youth to those of his riper 
years ; from the time of his first aspirations after a 
missionary life to the successful establishment of 
the mission in Burmah. The subsequent portion 
of his history is more crowded with stirring inci- 
dents, with vivid contrasts, with narratives of dar- 
ing and endurance, of perils and escapes, such as 
are fit materials for an epic poem ; but that part 
which has passed in review before us discloses most 
clearly his principles of action, his cherished aims, 
the force of his genius, the ruling spirit of his life, 
the leading qualities of his mind and heart. It 
will be sufficient for our purpose, therefore, to 
glance hastily at the course of events from the pe- 
riod which we have reached to the close of his 
earthly career. 

Previous to the opening of the zayat in Ran- 
goon, two yonng men of Boston had joined the 
mission. These were, Mr. Wheelock, of the sec- 
ond church, under the pastoral care of the Rev. 
Dr. Baldwin, and Mr. Colman, of the third church, 
under the care of Rev. Dr. Sharp. Within a sin- 
gle year Mr. Wheelock fell the victim of a fatal 
disease. Within three years Mr. Colman followed 
his friend to the tomb , but in the beginning of the 
year 1820 he was Dr. Judson's companion to the 
imperial court at Ava. A strong impression pre- 
vailed at Rangoon that a friendly visit to the emperor 
might incline him to favor the new religion, and -to 
protect the converts from persecution. The drift 
of events during several years had fostered in the 



In the Missionary. 92'-] 



breasts of the missionaries the most sanguine hopes 
of this result. They performed, therefore, a tedious 
voyage up the Irrawaddy with the utmost cheerful- 
ness, and their elated expectations invested all the 
scenes of nature with an aspect of beauty and love- 
liness. Nothing that ever came from Dr. Judson's 
pen was written in a more animated style than 
were the pages of his journal while on the way to 
Ava. But when the visit had proved to be an en- 
tire failure, when the emperor had dashed to the 
ground with deep disdain the printed leaf which 
proclaimed an eternal God, and had bidden the 
splendid volumes which they oftered away from 
him, their spirits sunk to a depth corresponding to 
their former elevation, and they were for a time 
paralyzed by the chill of disappointment. They 
imagined that no Burman would dare avow a re- 
ligion which ''the golden feet" had spurned, that 
further labor would be wasted, and that a more 
hopeful field must be sought. One of the most in- 
structive spectacles in the history of missions occur- 
red at Rangoon, w^hen the Burman disciples, instead 
of shrinking from the company of the missionaries, 
as it was supposed they would do, rallied around 
them, encouraged them, pointed out the brighter 
aspects of the enterprise, and besought them with 
tears and arguments not to forsake a post to which 
God himself had so evidently led them. The coun- 
sel of the Burman Christians prevailed, and their 
faith saved the station from abandonment. This 
was ''after the manner of God," who honors the 
zeal of his people more than the patronage of 



224 Ohbistian Gkkatness 

kings, and was in analogy with the ways of Him 
who committed the destinies of his cause on earth 
to the lowly fishermen of Galilee, but who, when 
invited to appear at the court of Herod, turned his 
back on majesty and left the royal sinner to his 
doom. 

The following year a Christian physician, Dr. 
Jonathan Price, joined the mission. He visited 
Ava in his professional character, and was favor- 
ably received by the emperor. This event opened 
the way for Dr. Judson to go to Ava as a mission- 
ary ; and when Mr. and Mrs. Wade arrived at Ean- 
goon, it was decided that they should remain there, 
and that he should fix his residence at the capital. 
The state of the mission was now more hopeful 
than ever. On all sides the signs of the times in- 
dicated prosperity. But these bright skies were 
soon overcast with clouds and tempests. For many 
years the British power in Hindostan had been 
making constant progress amid the storms of war, 
and now it was destined to establish itself in Chin- 
India. "When it became evident that the Burman 
emperor was making preparations to invade Ben- 
gal, it was resolved to anticipate the blow ; and an 
army of ten thousand men, under the command of 
Sir Archibald Campbell, attacked and seized Ran- 
goon. Messrs. Hough and Wade, then residing at 
that station, were imprisoned under armed keepers, 
who had been charged to massacre our brethren as 
soon as the first shot should be fired. But the 
panic created by that shot was so iu tense that the 
keepers fled, and by this means alone were the lives 



In the Missionary. 225 

of the prisoners saved. When the news of that de- 
liverance reached this country, our temples re- 
sounded with the strains of thanksgiving, chasten- 
ed and subdued, however, bj the fearful suspense 
which remained as to the fate of our friends in Ava. 
For two years that suspense was unbroken, and be- 
cam.e more agonizing by the lapse of time. At 
last the welcome news arrived that the lives of the 
missionaries had been preserved. But who can 
adequately describe the profound and mingled 
emotions which swelled the hearts of American 
Christians, the smiles, and tears, the fervent pray- 
ers and hymns of praise, tokens of sympathy too 
deep for words, which distinguished our assemblies 
at that period when the revolting scenes at Ava 
were fully disclosed? Every form of evil which 
the most lively imagination had suggested, except 
that of death itself, had been bitterly realized by 
Dr. Judson and his companions in sorrow. Loath- 
some prisons, galling fetters, famine, tortures, bar- 
barous insults, the separation of husband and wife, 
the confiscation of goods, exhausting sicknesses, 
and bloody tracks of lacerated feet over burning 
sands — these are the leading features that mark the 
picture of missionary life in Burmah during the 
progress of the English war. And yet, amidst the 
peltings of the storm, these Christian martyrs could 
encourage each other to calm endurance ; their 
souls rose superior to the overhanging clouds 
charged wi^h the elements of destruction, like those 
birds of the tropical climes which are observed to 
soar above the sweep of the passing hurricane, and 



226 Christian Greatness 

to pour forth their sweet songs in the serener 
regions of the upper atmosphere. 

A tribute of honor is due to Sir Archibald Camp- 
bell for his generous treatment of our missionaries 
at the close of the war. In the treaty of peace 
which followed, he demanded their surrender at the 
hands of the Burman emperor, who, having become 
sensible of the value of Dr. Judson's services as a 
translator and interpreter, had expressed an inten- 
tion to retain him. The English general not only 
w^elcomed him to the hospitalities of his camp and 
table, but presented him Avith an eligible site of 
land for a missionary station at Amherst, the cho- 
sen seat of the English Government in Burmah ; 
and afterward, when Mrs. Judson died and was 
buried there, he expressed a sense of her extraordi- 
nary worth, and his sympathy with her bereaved 
husband, in terms v^hich reflect more honor on his 
character than the victories acquired by his arms. 
In the retrospect of life, it must have seemed to 
Dr. Judson an occasion of gratitude to God that 
the British power, which had driven him from 
India, was now wielded by one w^ho was disposed 
to throw around him its protecting shield. 

After tlie restoration of peace. Dr. Price returned 
to Ava. He was favorably received as a physician, 
and became, also, the tutor of several youths be- 
longing to roj^al and to noble families. His hopes 
w^ere sanguine as to his future usefulness, but in the 
year 1828 he died of pulmonary consumption. Of 
him no memoir has been published, and the entire 
destruction of his papers during the Burmese war 



In the Missionary. 227 

has rendered it difficult to supply the deficiency. 
To the mission his loss was irreparable. He was a 
man of extensive attainments and of remarkably 
fine address. At Ava he engaged the confidence 
of the court, and of him, in connection with Dr. 
Judson, it was attested by Mr. Crawfurd, the En- 
glish envoy, that '' it was in a great measure through 
their influence, in surmounting the unspeakable 
distrust, jealousy, and it may be added, incapacity 
of the Burman chiefs, that the peace was ultimately 
brought about."^ 

During several succeeding years Dr. Judson was 
busily engaged at Amherst and Maulmain in the 
work of translation, in the revision of the Burman 
Scriptures, in the preparation of a Burman-English 
dictionary, and in public teaching at the zayat. 
At this time, when Burmah proper was closed 
against him, a new field of missionary influence 
was unexpectedly opened to his view. Early in 
the year 1828 the church at Maulmain received 
Moung Thah-byu as a candidate for baptism. As 
Mr. Boardman, w^ho had lately joined the mission, 
was about to establish a station at Tavoy, an old 
Bnrman town on the Tavoy river, containing a 
population of about nine thousand, he took this 
young convert with him, and baptized him. there. 
Although the name of this man sounds to our ears 
like the name of a Burman, yet he was of another 
race — the Karens — a people as nomadic as the 
Arabs in their habits, scattered abroad through the 

* CrawfurcT's Embassy, vol. 1. p. 160. 



228 ' ChKISTIAN GuiiATNESS 

rural districts, the mountains and the jungles of 
Burmah and Siam. Their condition is singular. 
They have no written language, no priests, no tem- 
ples, no ritual, and although some of them are 
Boodhists, the great majority of them believe in 
the existence of an Eternal God, sing hymns to his 
praise, and in the scale of moral virtues are supe- 
rior to the heathen around them. According to 
the testimony of Mr. Mason, who has thoroughly 
mastered all that may be known of their history, 
they have been long walking after the traditions of 
their fathers, which had nourished in their breasts 
the expectation that teachers would come from afar 
to instruct them in the true religion. The hopes of 
the church in Maulmain, that the convert whom 
they had received to their fellowship would be 
among the first fruits of a spiritual harvest gather- 
ed from the Karens, have been amply realized. 
They seem to have been " a people made ready for 
the Messiah." The annals of modern missions 
exhibit no instance of a more rapid and amazing 
triumph of the gospel ; for it is with a feeling of 
grateful joy that we record the fact, that Dr. Jud- 
son lived to see the day when there was reason to 
believe that eleven thousand Karens had embraced 
the faith of Christ "in spirit and in truth." 

Eight years after he had buried the wife of his 
youth. Dr. Judson became united in marriage to 
Mrs. Sarah Boardman, widow of the Rev. George 
Dana Boardman, who had fallen by the hand of 
death four years before, while in the prime of man- 
hood and in the midst of his usefulness. This union 



Lv riiK TsIissioNARY. 229 

was in all respects a happy one. The qualities of 
her mind^ and heart, her thorough education, her 
congenial tastes, her aptness to teach, her elegant 
Burmese scholarship, the strength of her domestic 
affections, and, withal, her love to the missionary 
work, well fitted her to be the companion and the 
wife of one whom she honored as " first among the 
best of Christians and of men." In the discharge 
of daily duties, in the endurance of trials, in liter- 
ary studies, in counsel and in action, they were 
mutual helpers, and for a series of years enjoyed a 
degree of happiness far beyond what their peculiar 
circumstances might have furnished reason to an- 
ticipate. But in the year 1845, Mrs. Judson's 
health became impaired ; a voyage beyond the 
tropics was ordered by the physicians, and after a 
painful deliberation, her husband resolved to ac- 
company her to her native land. 

They had not been long at sea before every hope 
of her recovery was blasted, and he recoiled from 
the prospect before him of committing her remains 
to an ocean grave. But he was spared that trial. 
Mrs. Judson died while the vessel was lying at the 
Isle of St. Helena, where a large circle of Christian 
friends followed her to the tomb, and sought in 
every way which sympathy could suggest to soothe 
the heart of the bereaved missionary. 

There are few, if any, of those who are assembled 
here who do not remember with what a thrill of 
joy the arrival of Dr. Judson in Boston was wel- 
comed. On the 15th of October, 1845, he stepped 
ashore, and at once the intelligence flew as on elec- 



230 Christian Greatness 

trie wings. His friends were invited to meet him 
at the Bowdoin Square Church on the evening of 
the second following day, and that large e'difice was 
crowded with men and women eager to behold the 
form and countenance of the veteran w^arrior re- 
turned from the field of his conflicts. A scene of 
equal interest is rarely beheld more than once in 
any man's lifetime, and an exact parallel to this can 
not recur within the period allotted to the present 
generation. 

The greeting which Dr. Judson here received was 
a fair example of what awaited him in other places; 
it w^as but the first touch of a sympathetic chord 
whose vibrations were felt throughout the whole 
country. Thousands who had been born since he 
had left his native land hastened to grasp his hand, 
and addressed him as one whose name had always 
been familiar to their lips. He who had gone forth 
weeping, *' bearing precious seed," while worldly 
wisdom pronounced his errand a chimera, and pre- 
dicted that his mission would be a failure, had now 
returned, amid universal acclamations, with the 
laurels of victory upon his brow. His journey was 
a triumphal march. It indicated a state of the 
public mind which he had never before witnessed. 
It was not the response of a great people to a bene- 
factor who had blessed tlie'in^ but it was a spontane- 
ous tribute of honor to a moral hero who had given 
up his life to bless others ; it was the grand expres- 
sion of a public sentiment toward the cause of 
Christian Missions which he himself had done so 
much to create. 



In the Missionary. 231 

During Dr. Judson's stay in this country, he 
evinced a fine susceptibility of deriving enjoyment 
from every thing around him. From reminiscences 
of the past, from scenes of nature, from social in- 
tercourse, from the study of men, manners, cus- 
toms, and society, he drew incentives to thought 
and subjects of conversation. His power of obser- 
vation was quick and comprehensive, and nothing 
seemed to be too great or too minute to minister to 
his mental activity and his happiness. It was evi- 
dent to those who were favored with the opportu- 
nity of associating with him, that his long delay to 
revisit the home of his youth had not arisen from 
any thing like coldness or stoicism in his nature, 
but simply from devotion to his great object. 
Nothing here, however, could wean his affections 
from the churches of Burmah, and he soon became 
impatient to return to the sphere of his daily toils. 
He desired to make every visit, every event, sub- 
servient to his life-work. While sojourning in 
Philadelphia, he became favorably impressed with 
the character' of that gifted lady whose graceful 
pen he wished to employ in writing a memoir of 
his lately deceased wife, and the result was a pro- 
posal of marriage, which, on her part, was consider- 
ately accepted, and which, as the course of events 
has shown, received the approbation of Heaven. 

After Dr. Judson's return to Burmah, he resumed 
the labors which had been interrupted by his ab- 
sence, and pursued them during the three following 
years, until his health became entirely broken 
down. A change of climate was necessary, and he 



232 Christian Greatness 

resolved to embark for the island of Bourbon. It 
was impracticable for Mrs.Judson to accompany 
him, and to her the pang of parting was rendered 
especially painful by the fear that he would never 
return. The native Christians of Maulmain were 
all opposed to his departure, expressing the gloomy 
presentiment that their beloved teacher would be 
buried in the sea, and also the wish that his grave 
might be made where they could visit it. In those 
fears Dr. Judson did not participate, but in the end 
they were all realized. He regarded himself as 
being constitutionally tenacious of life, and longed 
to inhale the ocean air, believing that he might yet 
be restored to complete his literary tasks, and then 
to devote succeeding years to the ministration of 
the gospel. 

But God had otherwise ordained. The pangs of 
disease, which became gradually more intense, were 
soon revealed in their true character as heralds sent 
from Him to summon a faithful servant from his 
toil to his reward. Thus far he had been borne 
onward triumphantly through a long* and arduous 
career; only one more contest now remained, only 
one more victory, and that the victory over Death. 
For this he was prepared. In anticipation of pro- 
tracted tortures aggravated by a quick, nervous sen- 
sibility, he could pray, like his Divine Master, 
''Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from 
me ;" still, it was his to welcome the bitter draught 
with the smile of resignation, and thus, " although 
he were a son, yet learned he obedience by the 
things he suffered." 



In the Missionary. 233 

Soon after the vessel had set sail, and while in 
sight of the Tenasserim coast, there was a relief 
from pain, and a slight resuscitation which threw a 
gleam of light over the prospect of recovery. But 
this was only like a calm in which, sometimes, the 
devastating storm gathers its energies. Racking 
pangs followed in quick succession. To Mr. Ran- 
ney, his coadjutor in the mission and his faithful 
companion in this trying scene, he said a few words 
expressive of the gratification afforded by the pres- 
ence of a Christian brother. Mr. Ranney an- 
swered, " I hope you feel that Christ is now near, 
sustaining you." " Oh, yes," he replied, " it is all 
right there. I believe that he gives me just so 
much pain and suffering as is necessary to fit me to 
die ; to make me submissive to his will." After 
this expression there was a period of more than 
forty hours replete with mortal agonies. It was 
followed by a placid calm, in which, w^ithout a sigh 
or sign of suffering, he expired. The manner of his 
death was in keeping with the sublime spirit and 
style of his life, and sheds a lustre over the retro- 
spect of his whole career — just as the setting sun 
flings back his splendors over the eastern sky, gild- 
ing^ every cloud and mountain height of the broad 
landscape with a mild, celestial glory. 

Fathers and brethren, you will doubtless unite 
with me in the expression of the sentiment, that in 
the review of our course on earth it will appear to 
us an inestimable privilege to have been permitted 
to live in the same age with such a man as Adoni* 
ram Judson, to have been co-workers in an enter- 



234 Christian Greatness 

prise so worthy to fill a mind and heart like his, 
to have been called to commemorate a life so 
fruitful in immortal deeds, and to contemplate a 
character so rich in the elements of moral great- 
ness. Sensible, as Lam, how inadequate must be 
any eflFort of mine to portray that character in few 
words, so as to realize your own conceptions of 
what he was, yet I am impelled to undertake it, 
because the occasion demands of us such a tribute 
to his memory as it may be in our power to offer, 
because from the abundance of the heart the mouth 
will speak in spite of conscious weakness, and be- 
cause it becomes us to hold up to the view of all so 
bright an example of the graces which dignify our 
nature, of the heroism which true religion inspires, 
of the moral grandeur with which an enlightened 
faith invests our poor fallen humanity. 

To a philosophical and an observing mind there 
is much that is interesting in the study of human 
character^ under whatever phase or form it may 
appear, whether in the bad or the good, in the 
pirate or the saint, in the monarch or the beggar ; 
just as in the realm of natural history the inquiring 
eye will find a lesson in the structure of an ele- 
phant or a worm, in the life and habits of the eagle 
that soars toward the sun, or of the insect that lies 
couched in the bosom of a flower. But then, in 
looking over the wide domain of human history, 
the boundless landscape embracing myriads of 
active beings like ourselves, it is only here and 
there, at distant intervals, that we see looming up 
to view a character of marked individuality which 



In the Missionary. 235 

forcibly arrests our attention, concentrates our 
thoughts upon itself, challenges our homage or our 
hate, and by its great achievements kindles within 
us an eager curiosity to search out the secret of its 
movement, to explore the interior springs wherein 
its strength has lain. Prophets, apostles, martyrs, 
lawgivers, reformers, projectors, discoverers, and 
successful leaders in the path of enterprise consti- 
tute a class of heroic men whom nations delight to 
honor ; and if all of these who have appeared in 
the course of ages were gathered into a single com- 
pany, they would seem but as a diminutive group 
compared with the teeming populations of the 
globe. Each one of them who eerves his race 
faithfully, finds his place of eminence, not by court- 
ing fame, but by doing his own life-work in that 
spirit of self-forgetfulness which is essential to true 
humility ; and then, when he is seen to have coped 
with appalling difficulties, to have trampled down 
great temptations, to have baffled mighty adversa- 
ries, and to have accomplished what sages pro- 
nounced to be impossible, the power of his charac- 
ter is felt universally, and hi§ example rises like a 
star in the moral firmament to shed its radiance on 
the path of succeeding generations. 

Now, in looking back upon the course of the 
half century which has just been completed, our 
eyes rest on Dr. Judson as a distinguished charac- 
ter ; and he first draws our attention while in the 
prime of life, as a Christian philanthropist rising 
superior to the prevailing spirit of his times, to the 
opinions both of the church and the world around 



236 Christian Greatness 

him, proposing to himself an object which but few 
could then appreciate, and pursuing it with a stead- 
iness of purpose commensurate with its dignity. 
Scarcely had he received Christianity as a divine 
revelation ere he saw that Christ had committed 
the evangelization of the heathen world as a sacred 
trust to his disciples ; and no sooner had he admit- 
ted this conviction than he hastened to realize it in 
action. The recorded words of Christ's last com- 
mission swayed his decisions as effectually as if he 
had stood with the Eleven on Mount Olivet, as if 
he had heard them pronounced with the voice of 
authority, and had fallen prostrate in worship at 
the feet of the heavenly majesty. Had he, like 
John at Patmos, been visited by an angel directly 
from the skies, flashing celestial splendors around 
him, and repeating the written mandate as with the 
trump of God, he could not have felt more strongly 
the obligations that rested upon him, he could not 
have obeyed with more alacrity, nor moved forward 
in his rugged pathway with a step more unfaltering. 
It is not wonderful, therefore, that to the eye of 
a distant observer he should have appeared simply 
as a " man of faith," pressing forward in his adven- 
turous race of life under the impelling power of 
that one mighty principle. But a clearer view of 
his history, a comparison of one part with another, 
w^U make it evident that he was distinguished not 
so much by the simplicity and strength of his faith, 
although that faith acted with an intensity which 
kindled his affections into a glow of enthusiasm, 
and subordinated all the passions of his nature to 



In the Missionary. 237 

itself, as by the combination of his faith with a cool 
practical judgraentj which qualified him wisely to 
select the means adapted to his chosen ends ; and 
also, by the union of that faculty of judgment to a 
strong executive will, which enabled him to carry 
out his far-reaching plans to their igsues, with a 
determination that no obstacles could daunt, with 
a patience that no disappointment could exhaust. 
As it has been justly said of Napoleon, that he 
united in himself the calm, calculating power that 
belongs to the ISTorthern temperament with the 
enthusiastic ardor and fervid imagination that 
belong to the Southern, so that his style of action 
was in keeping with the grandeur of his concep- 
tions, it may be said with equal truth of our ven- 
erated leader in the missionary warfare, that he 
combined the enthusiasm of faith with such a clear, 
serene judgment, and with such a manly energy of 
will, as fitted him to grapple with seeming impossi- 
bilities, to '' speak of things which were not as 
though they wxre," and to bring to an undertaking 
which required for its success the interpositions of 
Omnipotence the same apt and careful forethought 
as would befit the cabinet of the statesman, the 
camp of the warrior, or any arduous work that lay 
within the scope of human enterprise. 

Wherever these interior elements of character 
become subordinate to some one grand conception, 
they always produce that degree of perseverance 
amidst difficulties, which, in the retrospect of a 
long series of actions, gives an impression of dra- 
matic unity to the life, and awakens in us the emo- 



238 Christian Greatness 

tion of sublimity. In every age the epic muse has 
found her choicest themes in the struggles of the 
good and brave who have pursued some noble aim 
against adverse fortunes, and have 

" plucked success 



Ev'n from the spear-proof crest of rugged danger." 

When we pore over the story of Christopher Co- 
lumbus, who, in his early solitary musings, vividly 
conceived of this new world as lying beyond un- 
known seas, and resolved to seek it, that he might 
rear upon it the banner of the Cross, how deeply 
are our hearts stirred within us while we see the 
constancy with which he ''watched thereunto with 
all perseverance ;" how he met the objections of 
titled ignorance ; how^ he bore ridicule ; how he 
rendered misfortune subservient to his work ; how 
he sustained the rebukes of priestly pride and 
courtly arrogance ; ,how he sought aid from princes 
and welcomed the sympathy of the poor ; how he 
prayed for help from on high and cast himself on 
the care of Providence as he steered his bark 
through many a tedious vigil of the night across 
the boisterous deep ! He appeared like other men 
in scenes of business, in conversation, and in 
action, but his one great object was ever present to 
his thoughts, and in spite of neglect, of disappoint-* 
ment, of ingratitude, in spite of opposing storms 
and threatening death, he persevered and conquered. 
His eyes beheld the promised land, and his great 
mission for mankind was accomplished. Not less 
worthy of admiration for his dauntless perseverance 



In the Missionary. 239 

is he who left the home of his youth to plant the 
standard of the Cross in the stronghold of Gandama ; 
who formed his plans in the solitude of his closet ; 
who derived but little aid from the counsels of 
experienced age ; who felt no genial sympathy of 
public sentiment quickening the pulsations of his 
heart ; but who, like another Columbus, went forth 
in the night of adversity, guided only by the lights 
of Heaven, and shaping his course by those eternal 
truths which God had set as stars in the firmament 
of revelation to throw their gleams along a path- 
less waste. 

And here it becomes us to acknowledge with 
devout gratitude his habitual reverence for the 
authority of GocTs Word ; the great controlling 
power which was exerted over a mind of such 
mighty energies, by its clear apprehension of the 
momentous principle that the Bible alone is the 
supreme and sufiicient rule of faith for all in mat- 
ters of religion. For that religious sentiment 
which is an essential element of human nature, 
when it predominates in a man of strong character, 
becomes an impulsive force that works out immense 
results of good or evil, according to the direction 
which it takes ; and, unless it be enlightened and 
guided by the oracles of God, is likely to render 
.any one who possesses more than ordinary intellect 
and passion a prodigy of superstition or fanaticism. 
Its effects are varied by the opinions aud spirit of 
the times ; in one age it produces monasticism, in 
another crusades, in another inquisitions: now it 
forms its votary into a Simon Stylites earning hea- 



240 Christian Greatness 

ven by penance and beggary, now into a Peter the 
Hermit summoning the faithful unto battle, and 
now again into a Torquemada purging the earth 
from heresy by fire and blood. In studying the 
lives of men, we are often astonished to see how an 
obscure event becomes a crisis of history. The 
flight of a bird from the mouth of a cave, saving 
Mohammed from the sword of his enemies, affected 
the destiny of millions ; and but for the seemingly 
accidental conversations of Loyola at Paris, the 
renowned Xavier would probably have yielded to 
the power of Luther's influence, and have become 
a champion of the Protestant faith. Who can tell 
how different from what it was would have been 
the earthly career of Dr. Judson, how different the 
color and complexion of his character, had he not 
been led in the very prime of his manhood to form 
just conceptions of the religion revealed in the 
'New Testament, to yield his whole soul to its 
supreme authority, and to cling with all the affec- 
tions of his ardent nature to "the simplicity that 
is in Christ?" A soul like his, touched with a 
spark of some " strange flre," and inflamed with 
zeal for some false system, might have become an- 
other St. Francis founding a new order of ascetics, 
or another Loyola training a new school of courtly 
propagandists, or another Xavier traversing India 
with a lofty martyr-spirit to teach the crucifix 
rather than the cross, to convert nations by sacra- 
ments rather than the gospel. But we have rea- 
son, on this occasion, to bless the Father of lights 
for the grace bestowed on his servant, that in the 



In the Missionary. 241 

day of doubt and inquiry, when lie was feeling 
after truth, if haply he might find it, the word of 
inspiration was made known to him as a divine 
counsellor, the oracle of his faith, the conservative 
and guiding rule of his conduct ; that he '' rejoiced 
in its testimonies more than in all riches," and 
that he counted nothing dear to him, so that he 
might give to pagan millions those recorded mes- 
sages which are as leaves from the tree of life for 
the healing of the nations. If, in -a coming age, 
some Allston should wish to employ his pencil in 
jDicturing forth a single action that should express 
at once the great aim, the chosen means, and the 
true spirit of the modern missionai*}' enterprise, he 
could scarcely select U more fitting scene than that 
which Heaven witnessed with a smile, when Ado- 
niram Judson was seen kneeling by the side of that 
table over w^iich he had long bent his frame in 
studious application, holding in his hand the last 
leaf of the Burman Bible, with his eyes uplifted, 
and with a countenance radiant with joy, thanking 
God that his life had been spared to achieve this 
work, and imploring the Divine Spirit to make the 
silent page a messenger of life to many. 

The leading features of Dr. Judson's character, 
when we regard him as a public man, have an 
aspect of such stern and simple grandeur that they 
throw into the shade those delicate traits which dis- 
closed themselves to the eyes of all who knew him 
in social and domestic life. Indeed, the higher 
qualities of which we have spoken are rarely found 
in intimate union with the gentler virtues, with 



242 Christian Greatness 

that childlike tenderness, that genial sympathy, 
that nice regard to the sensibilities of others, which 
throw a charm around the scenes of home and the 
circles of friendship. We are never surprised to 
learn that these are utterly wanting in men of iron 
sinew, formed for daring and endurance. Just as 
when we have gazed upon some lofty mountain 
that tovv^ers sublimely to the skies, it seems not 
strange if, on a close survey, the fine proportions 
and the beauty of outlines shall have vanished, so 
that we can touch nothing but rugged rocks and 
tangled thickets. But to find the ascent of an Alp- 
ine height enriched with fruits and flowers, with 
sheltering vines, refreshing springs, and singing 
birds, must fill the breast of every beholder with a 
sentiment of pleasing wonder. A kindred emotion 
has, doubtless, been awakened in the hearts of 
many who have long contemplated Dr. Judson 
from a distant point of view, and have afterward 
been favored with opportunities of personal inter- 
course. Then it has been seen that the elements of 
his nature were admirably balanced, that his social 
affections were commensurate with his intellectual 
powers, and that his many-sided mind filled a wide 
sphere of being. Of him it could not be justly 
said, as it once was of an eminent moral philoso- 
pher, that he loved man in general, but no human 
being in particular; nay, his heart was a well- 
spring of tender affections, his eye took within its 
scope the whole wide range of human relationships, 
and he was sensitively alive to the happiness of all 
around him. In this respect he resembled his Di- 



Ix THE Missionary. 2i3 

vine Master, who, while on earth, although he was 
employed in a mission that involved the eternal 
destinies of a fallen race, could find congenial joys 
in the friendship of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, 
and who, amidst the agonies of the cross, could 
commend th$ temporal welfare of his mother to 
" that disciple whom he loved." 

In this connection it may be proper to observe 
that in regard to the social qualities of Dr. Judson, 
his susceptibility of the pleasures of friendship, his 
powers of conversation, his combination of mental 
energy with the most winning gentleness of expres- 
sion, many of us received impressions, during his 
sojourn in this country, which could have been im- 
parted by no study of his history, by no sketch, 
however vivid and graphical. Whensoever we see 
a man who is distinguished for singleness of aim, 
we are often struck with a certain eloquence of 
manners which can not be described, and which 
w^ien found to be in keeping with the tenor of his 
life^ discloses the heart more truthfully than the 
best efforts of the pencil or the peri. The evau- 
gelist Luke seems to allude to the impression of 
character made by the personal appearance of our 
Lord, in a single phrase which Dr. Campbell has 
translated, " he was adorned with a divine grace- 
fulness.'' The soul reveals itself not only in words, 
but in the tones of the voice, in the animated coun- 
tenance, in the kindling eye, in every feature, in 
every movement. Although it may not be safe to 
judge of men by the outward appearance merely, 
yet there are signs of character which are seldom 



244: Christian Greatness 

mistaken, which no art can counterfeit, and which 
make impressions that we can neither resist nor 
erase. And no one, probably, has been permitted 
to enjoy Dr. Judson's society, and especially to 
kneel with him while conducting the worship of a 
family, who has not left his presence with some 
new conviction of the depth of his piety,- of the 
breadth of his philanthropy, of his childlike humility 
as a Christian, and of his real greatness as a man. 
ISTor can we omit to notice, while we consider 
the variety of situations in which our departed mis- 
sionary was placed, the versatility of his talents, 
which enabled him to be at ease and at home in 
every position which he was called to occupy. 
Every one who has considered the subject is well 
aware that the cpalihcations requisite for a trans- 
lator of the Scriptures into a foreign language 
embrace a wide sphere of acquisitions. As a 
scholar and a critic, Dr. Judson did not allow him- 
self to fall behind the advancing spirit of his times ; 
and, if we may credit the testimony of Mr. Craw- 
furd, the English envoy to the court of Ava, who 
had ample means of judging, he had no superior 
in the empire as a thorough master of the Burman 
language and literature. At the same time, his 
knowledge of the world, of men. and things around 
him, his wide scope of thought, and his powers of 
communication, gave a particular value to all his 
opinions on matters of secular interest, and com- 
manded the respect of the most distinguished men 
with whom he was led to associate in private and 
in public life. 



In the Missionary. 245 

Notwithstanding repeated attacks of disease, it 
was his cherished hope, as it was also that of his 
friends, that his days would have been prolonged, 
that he w^ould have been permitted to finish the 
works which had long tasked his pen, and give 
himself to the ministry of the word without inter- 
ruption. Whensoever we have thought of his ripe 
experience, his familiarity with th^ language, cus- 
toms, and mental habitudes of the Burman people, 
we had fondly imagined w^ith what zeal and effect 
he would consecrate his advancing age to the work 
of oral teaching. But this pleasing picture, which 
glowed before the imagination in such lively colors, 
has been suddenlv marred. In tne si2:ht of God 
his work was done, and he w^as called to his rest. 
Yet so intent was his soul upon that work, that 
the voice of the summons which bade him away 
fell upon the ears of anxious friends sooner than 
upon his own. But when it was heard by him, 
how cordially was it welcomed ! He was ready. 
To him, death came not as the "king of terrors," 
but as a commissioned servant to conduct him 
home. He has fought a good fight, he has finished 
his course, he has kept the faith, he has died in 
triumph. The veteran soldier sleeps in his chosen 
sepulchre. They laid him in the ocean bed where 
none can break his repose. They could write no 
epitaph, they could raise no memorial, but they 

" left him alone in his glory," 

where the winds shall moan his requiem until the 
last trump shall sound, and the sea shall yield up 
its treasured trusts. 



246 Christian Greatness 

And now, fathers and brethren, while we com- 
memorate the life and character of our venerated 
•missionary, let us open our hearts to the lessons 
suggested by this occasion ; and especially let it 
be ours to apprehend more vividly the nature of 
THAT moral HEROISM whicli he so nobly exemplified, 
and which befits the period in which we live. In 
the classic ages of the past, the epithet heroic was 
applied only to those who achieved deeds of mar- 
tial valor. The verse of Milton has well expressed 
that truth : 

*' Conquerors who leave behind 
Nothing "but ruin wheresoe'er they rove. 

And all the flourishing' works of peace destroy, 
Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods, 
Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 

Worshiped with temple, priest, and sacrifice." 

The usages of language illustrate mental history, 
and the application of the idea of heroism to grand 
projects of benevolence, to the champions and 
martyrs of Truth, designates the era of Christianity. 
' The thought gleamed on the mind of ISTapoleon 
amid the reflections of his exile, and was uttered 
in those weighty sentences which he addressed to 
the Count de Montholon while at St. Helena. 
''The religion of Jesus Christ is a mystery which 
subsists by its own force, and proceeds from a 
mind which is nbt a human mind. We find in it a 
marked individuality, which originated a train of 
words and actions unknown before. Jesus is not a 
philosopher, for his proofs are miracles, and from 
the first his disciples adored him. Alexander, 



In the Missionary. 247 



Caesar, Charlemagne, and myself, founded empires ; 
but on what foundation did we rest the creations 
of our genius ? Upon force. Jesus Christ founded? 
an empire upon love, and at this hour millions of 
men would die for him ! I die before my time, 
and my body will be given back to the fearth, to 
become food for worms. Such is the fate of him 
who has been called the great Napoleon. What 
an abyss between my deep mystery and the eter- 
nal kingdom of Christ, which is proclaimed, loved, 
and adored, and is extending over the whole earth !" 
Wonderful words to be spoken by those imperial 
lips ! They reveal the truth of things as it must 
appear in the light of eternal realities. Is it not 
possible, think you, that the martial hero who ut- 
tered them may have wished, as he awoke to a 
calm retrospective view of his course, that he had 
acted a more Okrisiian part in the great drama of 
life, and that other words than these had sounded 
the key-note of his moral history ? Whatever may 
have been his secret wish, we welcome his testi- 
mony as a tribute of honor to the enterprise which 
unites our hearts, to the heroism which true philan- 
thropy inspires, and to the character of a man like 
him whose aims and deeds we here devoutly cele- 
brate. 

Yet let us remember that it belongs not to the 
missionary alone to cherish and develop this he- 
roic spirit in some distant land or some conspicuous 
sphere. In the early ages it gave a lofty tone to 
whole communities of Christians ; it was breathed 
forth in their social intercourse, in their daily pur- 



248 Christian Greatness 

suits, in their style of life and conduct. But in 
our time the genius of enterprise, even among " the 
sons of the church," needs a new baptism from on 
high. Their hardy courage, their spirit of adven- 
ture and of self-denial, must be hallowed by a loft- 
ier aim. In the pursuit of perishable wealth they 
put forth mighty efforts which would take on an 
aspect of heroism, if they were subordinated to a 
worthy moral object. For the sake of gain they 
are willing to become exiles from home, to under- 
take the most arduous pilgrimages, to brave the 
perils of the stormy deep or gloomy desert, to dare 
the blasts which sweep over the icy solitudes of the 
north, if they may but rob wild beasts of their 
costly furs, or risk life amid the malaria of Africa 
if they may but pick up gold-dust from her burning 
sands. In the pursuit of wealth the mind embold- 
ens itself to meet the inarch of pestilence, and 
infection seems to have been disarmed of its terrors. 
For this end families, too, are broken up and scat- 
tered over the earth ; one makes his home on the 
ocean, another in India, another in the mines of 
California, and a fourth seeks his fortune in the 
new ports of the Pacific. With what inflexible 
will do they wrestle with difficulty, with disease, 
with the pains of absence, with bitter disappoint- 
ments ; and oh, how elevated and ennobled would 
be the elements of such enduring character if they 
were truly consecrated to the interests of the Mes- 
siah's kingdom, and were thus made subservient to 
the real progress of humanity! And surely, in 
these latter days, while ''the signs of the times" 



In the Misstonary. 249 



beckon us on to bolder attempts in the great battle 
which has long been waged with the powers of 
darkness, ''with spiritual wickedness in high pla- 
ces," now, when mountains fall and valleys rise 
before the march of Science, so that our antipodes 
become our neighbors — now, when America, which 
was but lately at the very ''ends of the earth," is 
rising up to be a great central power, stretching 
forth her gigantic arms to reach the continent of 
Asia on the one side and the continent of Europe 
on the other, the chief want of the times is a manly, 
generous. Christian public spirit, which shall per- 
form heroic deeds amid the stir and din of secu- 
lar business, and aim to subordinate the realms of 
Agriculture, of Commerce, of Art, of Literature, 
and of Labor to the grand design of Christianity 
in the renovation of our fallen world. 

Last of all, let us resolve, with a firm faith in the 
promised agency of the Divine Spirit, to carryfor- 
ward the work which has been so well hegun hy those 
who have gone hefore us. Let it be our prayer, that 
the mantles of the ascending prophets may fall on 
worthy successors, until that favored generation 
come who shall celebrate the universal triumph of 
the Redeemer. 

It is deserving of remark that, after a long lapse 
of ages, it has devolved on the men of the last cen- 
tury to push forward the conquests of the Cross 
among the older nations of the world, beyond those 
eastern lands which had bounded the progress of 
Christianity in the days of the Apostles. Wonder- 
ful as were the victories of our religion in the first 



250 Christian Greatness 

century, they scarcely reached beyond the domin- 
ion of the Caesars, which was then called " the 
whole world." Yet far beyond it, stretching east- 
ward, lay the older Pagan countries overspread by 
Boodhism and Brahminism ; and these were left, 
as they had been long before, from time immemo- 
rial. Afterward, when Constantine established 
Christianity as the religion of the State, it became 
a territorial creed, hemmed in by the boundaries 
of the empire. And thus it has, in a great degree, 
remained, until the missionary spirit of modern 
times took up the work nearly at the point where 
it was left by the last of the Apostles, and won 
new trophies in those old domains of Boodh and 
Brahma. 

With this fact in view, we can not but be struck 
with an analogy between the progress of science 
and Christianity. It was at the close of the first 
century of the Christian era that the Emperor Tra- 
jan, having beaten back the northern barbarians 
beyond the Danube, engaged in the work of extend- 
ing the improvements of civilization and the arts 
of peace in those dreary regions. Among the me- 
morials of his reign, travelers have beheld witn 
admiration the remains of a ship canal, cut through 
the solid rock, around the rapids of that noble river. 
But at the death of Trajan the work was left unfin- 
ished, and for seventeen hundred years has remain- 
ed in that condition. The empire had then reached 
its culminating point ; its energies were spent ; it 
had begun to decline and fall, and it had no power 
or resources adequate to the completion of the 



In the Missionary. 251 



plans which Trajan had projected. Beneath the 
tramp of barbarian hordes Roman civilization lay 
crushed during revolving centuries, and the chisel- 
ed rocks bore witness of a fallen empire unable 
to finish what it had begun. But under the auspi- 
ces of Christianity, Art and Science have plumed 
their wings anew, to go forth and repair the old 
and desolate wastes. Within the memory of living 
men, an impetus has been given to the world's af- 
fairs by means of which the enterprise of Trajan 
has lately received its finishing stroke. That im- 
pulse came forth, not from the banks of the Tiber, 
but of the Hudson ; and the invontion of Robert 
Fulton has achieved the significant result. Thus, 
too, has it been in the history of Christianity. The 
men of our own times have been called to set their 
hands to the w'ork of God, just where its early her- 
alds left it, and have urged forward the triumphs 
of our religion beyond those borders which marked 
the termination of her first victorious career. The 
new impulse has proceeded, not from Rome, or 
Constantinople, but from London, from New York, 
from Boston, and from the chief seats of Christian- 
ized Anglo-Saxon power. 

Seeing, then, that brightening signs indicate an 
accelerated progress of the Messiah's kingdom — 
that the voice of Providence is summoning us re- 
newedly to be co-workers in this glorious cause — 
let us devoutly aim to do our life-work faithfully, 
to follow in the steps of those " who, through faith 
and patience, have inherited the promises." Let 
it be ours to bear a part in the fulfillment of those 



252 CHEiSTrAN Greatness in tue Missionary. 

old prophecies which have long shed hopeful 
gleams across the night of ages, that thus we may- 
be prepared to unite in those heavenly anthems 
that shall celebrate the final triumph of the Ke- 
deemer, unto whom ''shall the gathering of the 
people be." 



CHRISTIAN GREATNESS 



THE STATESMAN 

|l §'U(SUX$i 

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE 

HON. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



CHRISTIAN GREATNESS 



THE STATESMAN. 



JOB V. 26. 



' Thou shall come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in his 

season." 



This declaration of an Eastern sage, touching the 
aspect of sublimity, beauty, and fitness which in- 
vests the termination of a protracted, upright, and 
useful life, was suggested to us by the last words 
of that venerable man and renowned statesman, 
the intelligence of whose death cast a pall of gloom 
over this nation, and awakened in millions of hearts 
a sense of painful bereavement. He fell^ struck by 
the hand of death in the place of his own choice, 
in the hall of legislation, in the service of his coun- 
try ; and as he recognized the stealthy, fatal stroke 
of the dread messenger who came to summon him 
away, he had only power to express his conviction 
of the fact by exclaiming, "This is the last of 



256 Christian Greatness 

earth — I am content," No similar event could 
have produced a sensation so profound as this ; the 
business of Congress was suspended, the avocations 
of common life throughout the city were inter- 
rupted, all amusements ceased, all local and party 
feelings were merged in the general grief, and from 
the Capitol to the circumference of this country, one 
chord of patriotic sympathy was touched and made 
to vibrate in mournful response to the blow which 
smote down a chief leader of the people, and extin- 
guished one of the ruling lights in our moral hem- 
isphere. 

It would not be right to allow such an occasion 
to pass unimproved. It hath its voice. To give 
it then a tongue is wise in us. In this event God 
speaks. Great men are his gifts. He raises them 
up to achieve the purposes of his wisdom and his 
goodness. The mind of capacious intellect, of 
great forecast, of nice discernment, connecting the 
faculty of patient attention to details with that of 
splendid philosophical generalization, illumined by 
varied knowledge, united to a heart of tender sen- 
sibility and of lofty courage, endowed with the love 
of truth, honor, rectitude, together with well-bal- 
anced powers of conception and execution, is one 
of the noblest objects of his creation; and the 
fitting combination of events to give it ample verge 
and scope is all of his ordering. The removal of 
such gifted men from the earth in the prime of life or 
in the culmination of their manly strength, is often 
spoken of in the sacred Scripture as a severe judg- 
ment on any people ; • as was the case when the 



In thk Statesman. 257 



prophet of God announced a nation's doom by the 
threatening, " The Lord doth take away from Ju- 
dah and Jerusalem the stay and the staff, the judge 
and the prophet, the prudent and the honorable 
man, the counselor and the eloquent orator ;" for 
then, it is added, ''children shall be their princes, 
and the people shall be oppressed." When, there- 
fore, we see a man, whom the people all "delight 
to honor," in whose soul patriotism is an essential 
element of his inner life, whose tastes and gifts 
qualify him for high statesmanship, whose heart 
maintaineth its integrity, who walks upon the 
heights of power with serene self-command, who is 
unseduced by flattery and undazzled by bribes, 
who loves peace, and yet recoils not from the strife 
of stormy passions if the voice of duty call him to 
it, who blends with stern gigantic powers a sweet 
childlike simplicity — when we see such a man pre- 
served to his country through times of trial, and 
yielding to her service the ardor of youth, the 
strength of manhood, the maturity of age, and at 
last, having passed beyond the bounds which have 
been set to the career of a mortal race, bowing 
cheerful assent to the majestic summons which bids 
him away from the scenes of his toil to a higher 
sphere of being, we can not but acknowledge and 
adore the Providence which so long spared him to 
the world, and blessed his country with the price- 
less heritage of his character. 

Melancholy as is the day which brings home to 
a nation's heart a sense of the loss sustained by the 
departure of such a chieftain, yet the mind can not 



258 Christian Greatness 

long linger to pore over this aspect of the event! 
Recovering from the first shock of surprise and 
grief, it is naturally led to contemplate the moral 
sublimity of such a death, and to admire that di- 
vioe benignity which ordered a termination of such 
impressive beauty to a life so eminently instructive 
and useful. In the course of nature every thing is 
beautiful "in its season," the bud and bloom of 
Spring, the fall of the fruit in Autumn, the garner- 
ing of the shock of corn full ripe. So when the 
aims and purposes of life have been fulfilled, when 
the exhausted faculties of the body fail through 
weakness to obey the behests of the active spirit. 
Death has the natural beauty which pertains to fit- 
ness, because it is so seasonable ; because, however 
suddenly it may come, it is nevertheless iimely. 

Although the history of the deceased ex-Presi- 
dent is familiar to the public mind, a brief review 
of it will be in accordance with our present pur- 
pose. His native place is a few miles from Bos- 
ton, in the town of Quincy, a part of it which was 
formerly included within the bounds of Braintree. 
He was born July 11th, 1767. In tracing the 
course of one's life it is often found that some occa- 
sion of early youth has quickened the whole emo- 
tive nature, has given to the thoughts their chief 
direction, and a permanent complexion to the 
character. One event appears to have exerted so 
mighty an influence on the mind of young Adams. 
This was the first public reading of the Declaration 
of Independence, to which he was a listener, with 
rapt attention, when a boy in only the ninth year 



In the Statesman. 259 



of his age, as he stood amid a crowd convened be- 
fore the old Boston State House. Its principles 
were congenial with the spirit of his mind, and 
took immediate possession of his heart. To him 
they were no vague abstractions, but momentous 
truths instinct with vitality and power. They 
were to him ever afterward " the lively oracles" 
of eternal justice and true humanity, which awoke 
an echo in the depths of his conscience ; they were 
the fundamental positions of all legitimate and 
righteous government, essential to the peace of the 
world and the progress of the race. He lived for 
these principles ; he felt that to aid in giving them 
free course and effectual sway was the main work 
committed to him, and to this great aim he was 
found faithful unto death. 

In the year 1778, before young Adams was 
eleven years of age, he embarked for France, in 
company with his father, who had been appointed 
a co'mmissioner to the court of Versailles, in order 
to obtain a recognition of our National Independ- 
ence. The drift of events favored the design of 
this commission, so that Mr. Adams and his son 
returned home the following year. After the brief 
interval of two months, however. Congress directed 
Mr. Adams to return to Europe, as minister pleni- 
potentiary, to treat for peace as soon as Great 
Britain should become disposed to bring the war to 
an end. Again, therefore, the father embarked for 
a foreign land, taking with him his son, John 
Quincy, to whom a residence abroad under such 
auspicious circumstances was of inestimable worth 



260 Christian Greatness 



as a part of his education, preparing him as it did 
to move with ease, and to feel at home in the 
sphere of diplomacy, wherein he afterward yielded 
immense service to his country. Two years after 
this period we find him in Russia, acting as secre- 
tary of legation, under Mr. Dana, minister of the 
United States to the court of St. Petersburg. It 
is evident that his mind was keenly alive to the les- 
sons which w^ere suggested by passing scenes ; for 
in a letter addressed to him by his excellent 
mother, in 1783, she takes occasion to say, " The 
account of your northern journey, and your observ- 
ation upon the Russian government, would do 
credit to an older pen." In these extraordinary 
advantages conferred on one so youthful, it be- 
comes us to recognize the hand of Providence, 
training him up for his great work of diplomatic 
statesmanship. The stirring scenes through which 
he passed, the alarms of war, the perils of the. sea, 
infested by armed foes, the sublime aspects of na- 
ture which he contemplated, the intellectual ex- 
citement of Paris, the political discussions which 
were then so keenly agitated, the conversations of 
Dr. Franklin, the constant care of a venerated pa- 
rent, all combined to invest him with those rare 
influences which tended to quicken the energies of 
his nature into a precocious yet healthful develop- 
ment. At that early period he attuned his ear to 
foreign languages, made himself acquainted w^ith 
European opinions, habits, and manners, and 
cherished in his heart a profound detestation of the 



In the Statesman. 261 

vices and the despotisms which exhaust the life of 
society in the Old World. 

Permitted by his father to return to Massachu- 
setts in 1785, he entered the University of Cam- 
bridge, at an advanced standing, and graduated in 
1787, at twenty years of age. He immediately 
commenced the study of law, under Chief Justice 
Parsons, of jSTewburyport, and entered upon his 
professional career in Boston, at the end of the 
three years' course. 

About four years from that time, in . 1794, Mr. 
Adams was appointed, by President Washington, 
resident minister near the court of the United Neth- 
erlands. Pie remained in Europe until 1801, em- 
ployed in executing errands of diplomacy in En- 
gland and Prussia, and as a public minister in 
Holland. In the character of foreign ambassa- 
dor, he enjoyed the confidence of Washington, who 
paid him the tribute of the highest praise for the 
skill and the success with which he discharged his 
many trusts. 

In the year 1802, Mr. Adams, having returned 
to this country, was elected a senator of Massachu- 
setts, and in the year following became a senator 
in Congress. In 1806 he accepted a professorship 
of Rhetoric in the University at Cambridge, and 
delivered a course of lectures, which are now ex- 
tant in a published volume. He resigned his seat 
in Congress before his term expired, and in 1809 
was nominated by Mr. Madison as minister to Rus- 
sia. He was abroad during the last war with 



262 Christian Greatness 

England, and was one of the commissioners at 
Ghent to negotiate a treaty of peace. 

After having returned to this country he became 
secretary of state, under President Monroe, and 
was the leading spirit of his administration. In 
the year 1824 he w^as elected President of the 
United States by a vote of the House of Pepre- 
sentatives. In that exalted station he displayed 
the same high moral qualities as had distinguished 
him in narrower spheres of action. Divided as the 
people of this country were, by feelings of the 
most impassioned partisanship, he rose superior to 
them all. No local or clannish prejudices swayed 
his official appointments ; no man was placed under 
the ban of proscription for his political sentiments, 
or for the open expression of them ; liberty of 
thought and of speech were honored as inalienable 
rights, as essential elements of a manly character ; 
and it may be truly said that the administration of 
John Quincy Adams adorns the annals of American 
historj^, and commends itself to the grateful remem- 
brance of future ages, as the realization of a lofty 
idea — even of that pure, high-souled impartiality, 
which becomes the chief magistrate of a nation, 
and which enters into every just conception of the 
dignity that belongs to that exalted office. 

Having completed one presidential term, in 1829 
Mr. Adams returned to his home in Quincy, after 
nearly forty years of active and arduous public 
service, which had achieved most important results 
in the history of our republic. But "his eye was 
not dim, nor was his natural force abated." A 



In the Statesman. 263 

mind like his could not rest in indolence. The at- 
mosphere of public life was as a native element, 
and even its agitations habit had made more con- 
genial than quiet inactivity. In this he was a won- 
der unto many. Just as the mariner, who has been 
educated to make his home upon the stormy deep, 
although fortune may have blessed him with a 
quiet retirement, can not bring his tastes to har- 
monize with the dull monotony, but welcomes 
again the excitement of his ocean-life with all its 
toils and perils — so the venerable ex-President, 
with a physical frame kept strong by manly disci- 
pline and temperance, with a mind whose joy was 
in activity, welcomed the scenes of public service, 
the duties of legislation, and conferred dignity on 
the office of the people's representative by accept- 
ing it after he had enjoyed the highest honors 
which his country could bestow, at a period when 
the fires of ambition had ceased to burn, and when 
the emoluments of place could offer no temptation. 
But behold what a mighty and youthful energy 
he carried into the execution of his duties ! The 
youngest aspirant after fame and position could not 
have been more studious, more punctual, more un- 
tiring, more deeply interested in all the passing 
questions of the day, or the great problems of the 
age, more keenly sensitive to all the elements of 
life 'and stir around him. What a noble spectacle 
did this eloquent old man present when he took his 
place again in our national Congress, so enriched 
with all the lore of experience as well as of schools, 
universities, and courts, acting his part in full sym- 



264 Christian Greatness 

pathj^ with men of the second and third generation 
after him, revered by men of every state and party, 
the pride even of his opponents, considered as a 
man and a citizen ; now listened to with mute at- 
tention while he poured forth the treasures of his 
wisdom, and now again quelling the fury of angry 
passions when, all bonds of restraint having been 
sundered, thej^ had been lashed into a fearful and 
overwhelming tempest. It was a kind and wise 
Providence that placed him there for good, and the 
devout Christian patriot, while he admires the in- 
strumentality, may well exclaim, ''It was thou, O 
God, who didst cause the voice of thy servant to 
be heard higher than the voice of many waters ; 
thou didst still the noise of their waves, the noise 
of their waves and the tumults of the people." 

Adhering rigidly to the habits of his youth even 
in advanced age, rising early, so as to give the first 
hours of the day to study and meditation, Mr. 
Adams preserved his mental faculties in all the 
vivacity of their prime, and in the greatness of 
their strength. The ambition of his last days was 
of a noble sort ; it was to leave the field without 
putting off his armor ; to die at his post — to die as 
a faithful servant, ''having his loins girt and his 
lamp trimmed and burning." Above all things he 
dreaded a life of indolence or uselessness. God 
favored his wish. It was fully realized. While 
his mind was acting in the plenitude of his powers, ' 
while his heart was throbbing with the pulsations 
of his wonted patriotism and his warm affections, 
his exhausted frame gave way ; his spirit forsook 



In the Statesman. 265' 

its earthly abode for that higher realm, where it 
may expatiate forever in the light and bliss of im- 
mortality. 

^'His last days were his best." The lustre of 
his character increased more and more unto the 
end. It was not for him in the retrospect of his 
course to appropriate the sentiment which the great 
English poet has attributed to a distinguished prime 
minister : 

^* Had I but served my God with half the zeal 
I served my king, he would not in mine age 
Have left me naked to mine enemies." 

The ex-President served his country with a zeal 
which never flagged, but he served his God first of 
all ; and at last, when he fell beneath the shaft of 
death, received not only the free tributes of love 
and honor from his friends, but the profound re- 
spect of his enemies, while- he left a name to be em- 
balmed in .the memory of a nation. . 

" His last days were his best." An interesting 
occasion once brought this reflection to my mind 
with an impression not to be erased. On the Fourth 
of July, 1843, having been invited to ofiiciate as 
chaplain at the Boston celebration of the national 
independence, I repaired to the council-chamber of 
the City Hall half an hour before the time for form- 
ing the procession. While reclining alone near the 
windbw, the venerable old man entered the room, 
and ere long, taking his seat beside me, began to 
converse with a childlike animation and simplicity 
of manner. After touching on a few reminiscences 



266 Christian Greatness 

of the past, he exclaimed, *'This is one of the hap- 
piest days of my whole life. Fifty years expire to- 
day since I performed in Boston my first public 
service, which was the delivery of an oration to 
celebrate our national independence. After a half 
century of active life I am spared, by a benign 
Providence, to witness my son's performance of his 
first public service, the delivery of an oration in 
honor of the same great event." It was evident 
that his heart was full of religious gratitude, and 
even then the sentiment of my text associated itself 
with his history, while his own lips testified that he 
was the heir of its promise, " Thou shalt come to 
thy grave in full age, like as a shock of corn cometh 
in his season." 

In endeavoring to make a just improvement of 
the present occasion, several reflections suggest 
themselves. 

1. Let us cherish a spirit of sincere gratitude to 
the Almighty (jriver of all good gifts, in that he 
raised up for the service of our country and our 
age a princely mind, so remarkably adapted to 
their necessities. If a fine adaptation of means to 
ends prove design^ then the extraordinary fitness of 
Mr. Adams to meet the calls of our infant republic, 
to occupy positions of delicacy and of difliculty, 
and in his very youth to serve her with success 
where the highest wisdom and experienced skill 
were requisite, proves a beneficent design on the 
part of God toward us as a people, and demands 
devout thankfulness from us to the All-^vise De- 
signer and Dispenser of the benefit. It is only in 



In the Statesman. 267 



the retrospect of a long life that we can see snch a 
blessing in its just lights, in its true relations and 
proportions, so as to appreciate it worthily. We 
need, as from an eminence, to take in a broad view 
of the w^hole landscape of his life-history, in order 
to understand the relative importance of the sphere 
which he occupied, and the dignity of the ends 
which he achieved. These are not clearly manifest 
while we are in close proximity to a living charac- 
ter. No doubt, while Washington was in daily con- 
tact with his countrymen, there were many of sober 
mind who thought that if he were suddenly re- 
moved, some substitute might be found who could 
with equal success occupy the vacant station. But 
now, when the history of that age is fully before 
us, when we read it a glance, when the many ele- 
ments which composed its intellectual and moral 
forces are analyzed and distinguished, w^e all ac- 
knowledge that Washington was without a paral- 
lel ; that the world possessed no other who could 
have stood in his place, could have wielded the 
moral sceptre of his influence, and have fulfilled 
his glorious mission to mankind. So, too, when 
we contemplate the extraordinary education and 
political talents of that young man to whom Wash- 
ington intrusted the honor and welfare of his coun- 
try in foreign courts, and the bright career of the 
young American minister in coping with the vet- 
eran diplomacy of European monarchies, w^e can 
not but recognize a Divine hand in ordering all the 
events of his previous life so as to prepare him for 
the emergency, and to qualify him by a perfect 



^6S Christian Greatness 

discipline for an elevated and perilous theatre of 
action. 

Again, when by a series of strange events the 
most discordant jealousies were brought into stern 
conflict at the Capitol, when by the aggressions of 
the slave power even the right of petition was de- 
nied, when -the surges of excited passion were 
threatening to sweep away 'the established bul- 
warks of freedom — who but he, uniting in himself 
the fervor of youth and the obdurate patiencje of 
manhood, with the dignity of age and lofty station, 
could have effectually checked their proud impetu' 
osity, could have ruled the agitation of the most 
fiery spirits, and called them to the sober consid- 
eration of those great fundamental principles with- 
out which all government is tyranny, and all lib- 
erty but a name? It was God who placed him 
there to guide the whirlwind and direct the storm, 
to plead for truth, law, right, justice, and human- 
ity, and thus to '' turn back the battle to the gate." 

2. Let us endeavor to honor and emulate that 
high-souled rectitude and honesty of purpose 
wherein lay the secret of his courage and his 
strength. However much men miglit differ from 
him in judgment, they confided in his sincerity and 
his truthfulness. He made up his mind in obe- 
dience to great principles ; he followed where they 
led, and was bold to proclaim and act out his own 
convictions. Sometimes he agreed with one party, 
then with another ; yet he did not mean to steer 
his course by the illusive lights of party policy, 
but by the fixed eternal star of absolute truth. For 



In the Statesman. 269 



this one thing, his realization in actual life of a 
stern republican virtue, the individuality of con- 
science, let his name be ever fragrant, let his ex- 
ample be prized by the remotest age as a rich 
moral legacy to the youth of his own country, and 
to the friends of liberty throughout the world. 

Prominent among the features of his character 
was his habitual confidence in the power, and in 
the final triumph of truth ; hence in the dark and 
trying day he was not ashamed or afraid to be her 
champion, w^hether he stood with many or with 
few. He had faith in that saying of an ancient 
sage, which was first uttered in the ears of a king : 
'' Great is the truth, and stronger than all things ; 
all the earth calleth upon the truth and the Heaven 
blesseth it ; all w^orks shake and tremble at it, and 
with it is no unrighteous thing." However feeble 
might be his voice, he felt that a right and faithful 
testimony is never lost. No ! thanks to God, it can 
never die. It may be overborne, it may be smoth- 
ered by the hands of violence, it may seem to be 
lost amid the din of strife and the clamor of a 
crowd, but it shall find responses in the deep re- 
cesses of many souls, and there shall its echoes be 
redoubled and prolonged, until it break forth from 
other tongues, and be caught up by listening mul- 
titudes, and sent abroad like the voice of mighty 
thunderings, and the sound of the trumpet of God 
in the ears of a convinced and subject world. 

3. It becomes us, too, in view of this occasion, 
to open our minds to fresh impressions of the in- 
estimable worth of parental influence over the 



270 Christian Greatness 

strongest minds, in early laying the foundations of 
an enduring character. It is said that, after the 
revolutionary war, when the French officers were 
assembled to take leave of the commander-in-chief, 
they desired an opportunity to pay their respects 
to the mother of Washington. This was granted 
to them at a public entertainment in Petersburg, 
Virginia. Such was the eflfect produced on their 
minds by her simple manners, her noble bearing, 
and the power of her conversation, that as she re- 
tired from their company, there was heard among 
them the spontaneous expression of the sentiment, 
"ITo wonder that America has such a general, 
since he had such a mother." And we may truly 
say that, whosoever contemplates the spirit that 
animates the history, and is breathed forth in the 
published waitings of that excellent woman, the 
mother of John Quincy Adams, will be disposed 
to apply to the deceased ex-President, the expres- 
sion of a .similar sentiment. An accomplished 
lady, possessed of sterling sense, looking through 
appearances to the reality of things, governed by 
a lofty patriotism and high religious principle, she 
was capable of leaving the impress of her charac- 
ter on the mind of her son ; and it is instructive 
to observe how strictly, even to the latest age, he 
cherished the opinions, and exemplified the virtues 
which she inculcated on him during the period of 
boyhood. The nicely adjusted system of action, 
the untiring industry, the love of knowledge, the 
love of country, the moral fearlessness, the con- 
tempt of fashion, the simple tastes, the religious 



In TiiK Statesman. 271 



reverence which appeared in him, were all embod- 
ied in her strongly-marked character. 

Apprehensive that her son's early residence 
abroad might subject his heart to corrupting in- 
fluences, she seems constantly to write in view of 
that perilous liability ; and in a letter addressed to 
him while in Paris, in the twelfth year of his age, 
she says, " Dear as you are to me, I would much 
rather you should have found your grave in the 
ocean you have crossed, -or that an untimely death 
cross you in your infant years, than see you an im- 
moral, profligate, or graceless child." 

In another letter addressed to her son, in his 
fourteenth year, she illustrates with an eloquent 
energy the great duties which he owes to himself, 
his parents, his country, and his God, and espe- 
cially one lesson of the flrst importance, that, " the 
only sure and permanent foundation of virtue is 
religion." 

At a later period she seeks to kindle in his soul 
a generous love of freedom, and says, "Let your 
observations and comparisons produce in your 
mind an abhorrence of domination and power, the 
parent of slavery, ignorance, and barbarism, which 
places man upon a level with his fellow-tenants of 
the woods : 

" A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty 
Is worth a whole eternity of bondage." 

At a still later day she is found rousing in him a 
spirit of devotion to his country, saying, "I hope 
you will never lose sight of her interests, but make 



272 Christian Greatness 

her welfare your study, and spend those hours 
which others devote to cards and folly, in investi- 
gating the great principles by which nations have 
risen to glory and eminence ; for your country will 
one day call for your services in the cabinet or 
field. Qualify yourself to do honor to her." la 
looking at the portrait which these letters present 
of the mother of Mr. Adams, it is interesting to ob- . 
serve that its more delicate lights and shades were 
reproduced in her son, a reflection often suggested, 
and especially by the fact that, inlialing as he did 
the spirit of the Revolution, he inherited from her 
a burning hatred against the government of En- 
gland as an oppressive power, which neither the 
lapse of time nor the infirmities of age could 
quench. 

To mark the connection between great effects and 
their obscure causes, to trace the mighty river 
which bears a nation's wealth upon its bosom to 
the little rill in the mountain's side that a man's 
hand may span, is as quickening to the intellect as 
it is profitable to the heart ; and surely it is worthy 
of being remembered by every American parent, 
that the solid and splendid qualities which were 
developed in the life and character of Mr. Adams, 
sprang up in the home of his childhood, and put 
forth their first bloom in the sunlight of a Christian 
mother's influence. 

4. Moreover, it is especially fitting at this time 
that we should bear witness to the feet, and tell it 
to our children, that those virtues of which we 
have spoken were daily nourished by a firm faith 



In the Statesman. 278 

in the Christian revelation, and by a devout study 
of it as the inspired Word of God. The sentiments 
which he received on this subject in his youthful 
years he often subjected to the test of scrutiny, but 
never abandoned. He clung to them as the light 
of life and the hope of glory. While acting as 
American minister at the court of Russia, he wrote 
a series of letters to his children. They were never 
published ; they exist only in manuscript, and 
several years since I was permitted to peruse a 
copy of them. It is interesting to notice how earn- 
estly he commends to them the habitual study of 
the sacred Scriptures, and how reverently he ap- 
peals to them on any question whereof they profess 
to speak. Whether we should agree with or differ 
from his interpretation of particular passages, it 
would be impossible to read these letters without 
bearing away a deep impression of the fact that the 
writer was seeking to derive his religious opinions, 
not from the creeds of a church, or from the wis- 
dom of men, but from the simple Word of God's 
own inspiration. 

In the realm of religion, as well of ethics and 
politics, he thought for himself; and yet, like the 
poet Milton, desired to slake his thirst for knowl- 
edge at 

" SUoa's brook, which flowed 
Fast by the oracle of God." 

He was not content with a moral philosophy ; 
he sought a vital Christianity. He has been known 
to urge on others, with great force of thought and 
expression, that view of the nature of sin which 



274 Christian Greatness 

philosophy can not impart, and which the mind can 
not apprehend, except by seeing it as the trans- 
gression of a divinely-revealed Law, invested with 
God's awful and eternal sanctions. His hope of 
immortality sprang from no self-complacent trust 
in his personal merits, but in the grace of the gos- 
pel, and is well expressed in a stanza of his own : 

'• My last great want, absorbing all, 
Is, when beneath the sod, 
And summoned to my final call. 
The mercy of my God'* 

Mourning his departure *' as one mourneth for a 
friend," it is a joy to us that this lamented patriot 
and chief has left, throughout the whole circle of 
his social and domestic relations, a reputation so 
unblemished, a name so dear to friendship, an ex- 
ample so munificent, as a heritage to the youth of 
his native land. Of the acts of his political life 
different opinions will be entertained according to 
the points of view from which they shall be re- 
garded ; yet we doubt not that the more closely his 
character and course shall be studied and consid- 
ered as a whole, the more evident will it appear 
that some parts of his public conduct, which have 
been attributed to a reasonless caprice, were dic- 
tated by those high, unbending principles of action 
which are far superior to the common-place max- 
ims of mere worldly prudence, and which, when 
announced, command the homage of every con- 
science. He has sunk beneath the weight of years, 
but the regret awakened by his death is like that 
which follows the man who is cut off in the midst 



In the Statesman. 275 



of his days, and whose work remains unfinished. 
May those who are toucihed with sadness by the 
late intelligence of his death strive to imitate all 
that in him was noble and " of good report," and 
then 

^* The cloud that wraps the present hour 
Will serve to brighten aU our future life/' 



CHRISTIAN 



GREATNESS: 



DISCOURSE 



CHRISTIAN GREATNESS. 



MATTHEW XX. 26-67. 

•' Whoioever will be great among you, let him be your Minister ; and whoso- 
ever will be Chief among you, let him be your Servant." 

A GREAT man has fallen in our midst ! A man 
who has been long accounted " a leader in Israel/' a 
distinguished citizen, a pure patriot, a true philan- 
thropist, in whom our hearts " safely trusted,'' and 
whom all of every rank in this community delighted 
to honor, has been called away from the scenes of 
earth to his home in heaven. On the last Wednes- 
day night, five minutes after the clock had struck 
eleven, the spirit of Friend Humphrey was sum- 
moned to leave its earthly tabernacle. His depar- 
ture was not unexpected. To him it was welcome. 
After protracted and excruciating pains that had 
racked his strong and manly frame, almost, one may 
say, to the whole extent of its capacity to suffer, dur- 
ing several successive months, he had often longed 
for the final hour as an era of release, and was pre- 
pared to hail the last pang as the herald of his trans- 
si tion from the furnace of '' refining fires " to those 



280 Christian Greatness. 

realms of joyous life which had long been familiar 
to the eye of Faith and the aspirations of Hope. 

An event like this should not be allowed to pass 
away without notice or improvement. His death is 
felt as a bereavement not only in the domestic cir- 
cle, and in the church which he loved as the home 
of his religious affections ; it is lamented by the 
whole community as a common loss. It touches a 
chord of sensibility which vibrates throughout *he 
whole extent of a widely-spread acquaintanceship. 
It stirs the breast of many an aged citizen with 
quickening recollections of the past ; it calls forth 
many a spontaneous tribute of regard from the 
young who have often been greeted by his friendly 
smile, and who loved " to do him reverence,^' Hav- 
ing been a resident of this city from the days of his 
youth, for almost half a century he has traversed its 
paths of business with the mien of manly honesty and 
the step of Christian dignity ; he has participated 
in the administration of its government with an 
energy that never flagged, with a prudence and firm- 
ness adequate to every emergency ; with the increase 
of his wealth and the ripening of his experience he 
has exhibited a fine example of an enlarged public 
spirit and of generous sacrifices for the public good ; 
he has been the friend of the poor, the shield of the 
weak, the companion of the strong, the steady pa- 
tron of the manifold forms of benevolent enterprise ; 
and thus, as a good man, as a useful citizen, he has 
shed a lustre around the whole sphere of life in 
which he moved^ having nobly realized in action 
that ideal character of true Christian Greatness, 



Christian Greatness. 281 

which our blessed Master, in the words cited as my 
text, commended to the admiration and the love of 
all his followers. 

And now *' a standard-bearer hath fallen. ^^ We 
shall see his face, we shall hear his voice no more. 
But he has left a fragrant name ; his whole career 
furnishes an illustration of that kind of moral excel- 
lence, upon which memory loves to muse, and which 
it is always refreshing to contemplate. Is it not fit- 
ting that we should pause, and open our minds and 
hearts to the lesson of his life ? The philosophy of 
this lesson is set forth in that significant precept of 
our Lord, which I have announced in your hearing. 
Let us turn our thoughts to its import, aptly expres- 
sive as it is of that power of moral character so 
steadily exerted in our midst by our departed friend, 
through a long series of years. 

It appears from the narrative of the Evangelist, 
that on a certain day, a woman, who was well known 
and highly honored amongst the disciples, used the 
privilege of a mother to approach our Lord in order 
to ask special favors for her two sons. She request- 
ed that they might occupy places of eminence and 
honor in the kingdom that he was about to es- 
tablish. In this request she betrayed a spirit of 
worldly ambition ; and when her errand on be- 
half of the two apostles became known to the 
rest, a kindred spirit was kindled in their breasts, 
and uttered itself in the mutterings of offended 
and indignant jealousy. The chief instructions 
which Christ delivered in the course of his min- 
istry, were usually suggested by occasions as they 



282 Christian Greatness. 

arose ; and now He takes the opportunity to ex- 
hibit to the view of those around Him, the pecu- 
liar character and the sublime moral aims of the 
new dispensation ; to declare to them that his king- 
dom was entirely different from that of any earthly 
royalty ; that high positions were not to be given 
away as personal honors or marks of friendship after 
the fashion of court-patronage, but that in his sight, 
unostentatious usefulness is true greatness ; so that, 
to reach the highest point in the scale of greatness, 
is to descend to the greatest self-denials, and to 
perform the greatest amount of service to Him 
and to his people. With w^hat simplicity of 
speech and manner was this far-reaching truth in- 
culcated ! Jesus called them unto Him, and said, 
^' Ye know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise 
dominion over them, and they that are great exer- 
cise authority upon them. But it shall not be so 
among you ; but whosoever will be great among 
you, let him be your minister ; and whosoever will 
be chief among you, let him be your servant. Even 
as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, 
but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for 
many.'^ 

While we give ear to a lesson so benign as this, 
are we not struck with that aspect of sublime moral 
greatness which invested the divine teacher who ut- 
tered it, whose life beautifully exemplified it, and 
who expects his sincere followers, in imitation of 
himself, practically to realize it ? His doctrine is 
that in the moral realm where He is the acknow- 
ledged sovereign. 



Christian Greatness. 283 

real usefulness is true greatness. 

The occasion demands that we allow our minds to 
dwell upon it. Let it be our aim to illustrate it by- 
regarding it from several points of view. 

1. To seek to be useful in the highest degree, is 
to cherish a true sympathy with the greatest and 
the best of beings. It is to be like God.^' " His 
greatness is unsearchable/^ his resources are infinite ; 
He is dependent on none. He can receive no benefit 
from us, or from any creature ; yet the mighty 
agencies of his vast dominion are busily tasked in 
our service, and the most subtle elements of nature 
are laid under contribution to promote the happiness 
of sensitive existences. Behold the workings of 
his Providence ; what a profound and complicate 
machinery ! When we have gazed, at times, with 
the imaginative eye, upon that dread symbol of it 
which rolled in grandeur before the rapt prophet by 
the river Chebar, we have been mute with awe in 
view of the lofty sweep of those mighty fier^ wheels, 
circled within wheels, instinct with life, full of eyes, 
moving through all heights and depths with electric 
speed and spontaneous power, as if animate in every 
part with one seraphic soul. God's providence 
never faileth, never tires, reacheth from heaven to 
earth, and supplies with equal ease the wants of 
angel or of insect. Everywhere, throughout the 
realm of nature, " all things are full of labor ; man 
cannot utter it /' the universe teems with life and 
motion, and whether you look at the obedient orb 
that whirls along its ethereal pathway, or at the 



284 Christian Greatness. 

mote which dances in the sunbeam, you see that one 
law ruleth all, and that each subserves the ends of 
divine beneficence. 

What an instructive application did our Saviour 
make of this general truth, when he said to his 
audience, '' My Father worketh hitherto, and I 
work V^ It is true, indeed, when he said this, he 
had just been performing a miracle which required 
the exertion of omnipotence : but in regard to con- 
stant and useful activity, he bids us to imitate God, 
who ^' maketh his sun to rise, and his rain to descend 
upon the evil and the good, upon the just and the 
unjust,'^ that thus we may be the children of our 
Father who is in heaven. Will not every true 
Christian heart, think you, give back a sympathetic 
answer to this sublime and comprehensive precept, 
which b^s us listen to those responsive testimonies 
that break upon the ear from the incessant chime of 
nature's harmonies throughout the boundless range 
of created agencies ? Yes ! Let us remember, then, 
that when we stoop to the humblest services which 
the cause of religion or the wants of iiumanity calls 
for at our hands, we begin to rise toward the highest 
standard of true greatness in the sight of God ; 
who, though he be great, " despiseth not any,'' who 
condescends to regard " the raven's cry," and " haith 
respect unto the lowly." 

2. In relation to this subject, however, what we 
learn of God from his works and providence, is 
beautifully illustrated by the example of Christ, in 
whom divine wisdom and goodness were embodied ; 
whose life expressed God's own idea of moral excel- 



Christian Greatness. 285 

« 

lence in man, and exemplified that true greatness of 
whicli the life of every Christian should be, in its 
appointed sphere, a practical realization. For, while 
we admire the lesson itself, as it comes to us from 
the lips of Jesus, our admiration is enhanced when 
we survey the earthly career of Him who came from 
heaven '' not to be ministered unto, but to minister.'' 
His course was one of useful service. He went about 
doing good. '' He pleased not himself,*' but it was 
his chief joy to do his Father's will in blessing 
others. In the dignity of his nature he stood above 
all, yet He stooped below all ; and, although He 
declared himself, as the Son of God, the rightful 
Lord of every creature, He said to the men in whose 
midst he moved on errands of love, " I am amongst 
you as one that serveth." As you read his history, 
when is it that He is seen to disclose those aspects 
of character which make the deepest impression on 
you ; which rouse and sway your spirit by their 
expression of lofty, god-like excellence? Is it in 
his occasional association Avith the great " leading 
men " of the age ? Is it in his visits to the rulers 
of Judea, who sometimes courted his society ? Is it 
in his attendance at the public celebrations, or in 
his reclining as a guest at the festivals of the 
wealthy ? Is it when by a word He controls the 
rage of hostile priests, or holds the power of the 
government in check, until his hour shall have come ? 
No : these are not the scenes around whicli the heart 
fondly lingers with emotions of the most profound 
reverence and adoring love. These are not the 
themes which Christian poetry has devoutly em- 



28o Christian Greatness. 

_ _ 

balmed, which the Church has celebrated in her 
songs, or which christian art has chosen for the 
commemorative picture ; but, as the subjects of such 
immortal works, you hear of " Christ healing the 
sick,^^ ^' Chi'ist blessing the children,'^ " Christ open- 
ing the eyes of the blind ;'^ instructing a sinful 
woman at the well of Samaria, or receiving the 
tribute of grateful tears with which a forgiven peni- 
tent bathed his feet. These are the scenes which, as 
at the bidding of creative genius they have been 
spread upon the canvas, have drawn throngs of 
willing pilgrims from afar to gaze upon them with 
sentiments of devotion, to enjoy the rapture which 
they inspire, and to confess the power of a moral 
greatness that attests the presence of the true Mes- 
siah. 

3. The doctrine of which we speak becomes in- 
vested with another aspect of dignity, when we con- 
sider that the great end for which a Christian is 
called by the divine word, taught by the divine 
Spirit, and practically educated under the discipline 
of Divine Providence, is, that he may benefit his 
generation by a course of useful service. No one 
can feel this truth too deeply, or too highly estimate 
its importance. The more widely we extend our 
, observation of the universe, the more clearly wo 
perceive that everything, whether it be grand or 
minute, is created with some capacity of useful ser- 
vice. The sun was not made to shine for itself, but 
for the benefit of a system of worlds. The soul of 
man, with all its interior resources, and the fine 
adjustment of its faculties, was never qualified to be 



Christian Greatness. 287 

happy in an isolated state ; the law of its being 
requires it to find its happiness in imparting happi- 
ness to others. By reason of sin it became spiritu- 
ally dead to this glorious aim, and all its sympathetic 
sensibilities were shrivelled under the fatal blight ; 
but when it becomes the subject of *' the new crea- 
tion in Christ Jesus/^ we may be sure that this great 
change is wrought for no inferior end. He would 
not redeem it for an object lower than that of its 
original creation. The principle of the divine 
arrangement was couched in the benediction pro- 
nounced, of old, upon the faithful patriarch : " I will 
bless thee and make thee a blessing.'^ Such is the 
destination to which our Master beckons us. And 
since it hath pleased Him thus to exalt us, to qualify 
us to participate in his happiness, to fulfil the minis- 
tries of his own love, to cover the rough wastes of 
this disordered world with the bloom and fruitage 
of heavenly grace, does it not become us to be earnest 
in performing this our life-work ; to have our posi- 
tion in the world clearly recognized by the things 
which we accon^plish, and so, to be preparing daily 
to hail the hour of death as marking the era of our 
advancement to a higher and a boundless sphere of 
joyous activity ? 

4. In accordance with these views, let it be re- 
membered that whosoever is endovv^ed with superior 
powers of mind, advantages of situation, or means 
of usefulness, ought, therefore, to be the greatest ser- 
vant. For these gifts render one more fit to serve. 
Unto whom much is given, from him sliall much be 
required ; and the rule of Christ's kingdom is, 



288 Christian Greatness. 

" every man according to his ability." Is it fitting 
that he who has ten talents should yield no larger 
returns than he who has but two ? And yet, how 
often do we see that he who is most stinted in the 
means of working, brings in the amplest revenue ! 
Surely, if there be anything that we possess, on 
which we are disposed especially to value ourselves, 
any element of character or condition for which we 
desire the appreciation of others, in that very direc- 
tion we are expected to achieve the noblest services. 
If we set a high estimate on any particular gift or 
endowment, we sink relatively low in the sight of 
God, unless that very power have fitting verge and 
scope in the cause of religion and humanity. If it 
seem to* us that our " great strength lieth " in any 
department of knowledge, or in our professional 
skill, in our inherited wealth, or in our faculty of 
making money, and we hoard up our acquisitions for 
ourselves, the more we gain, the poorer and the 
meaner will we appear in the sight of Heaven : and 
the more terribly, at last, will conscience, from its 
deepest recesses, echo back the sen^tence that shall 
be sounded out from the judgment-throne of the 
Universe. The talent, wrapped in a napkin, when 
it comes to be unearthed, will be a witness against 
our perverted stewardship. In the end we must 
be deprived of that which we idolize and abuse ; 
for, the final decree will be, " Take away the talent 
from him," and it shall be added to the stores of the 
faithful servant who will use it with skill and gather 
its increase. 

5. Moreover, let it be observed that the realiza- 



Christian Greatness. 289 

tion of this idea of Christian greatness in the pursuits 
of life, implies a willingness to be useful in any ca- 
pacity, or to occupy any position which our Master 
may designate. Too many, no doubt, are the sub- 
jects of a mental illusion in regard to their desire 
of usefulness. A fine ideal standard of moral great- 
ness glimmers before the eye of Fancy, soothes and 
charms them now and then in hours of reverie, and 
makes the heart occasionally to throb with an ardent 
longing after its attainment. But these vivid con- 
ceptions rarely pass out of the dreamy realm of con- 
templation into that of practical life. There is a 
failure at the point of action. There is a want of 
sober calculation, or a want of executive energy. 
Habitually fastidious in the choice of place, circum- 
stances, or associations, they aspire to this or that 
inviting station ; they imagine a combination of 
elements which would be very agreeable if it were 
only practicable, and then fancy how much good 
they would do if all these conditions could be well 
arranged. But if that spirit of holy ambition to be 
useful, which the words of my text inculcate, really 
dwell in us, we will be sure to " serve our generation 
by the will of God ^^ in some manner, wheresoever 
we may be ; we will attempt at once the thing to be 
done which lieth at our hand, however humble may 
be the service ; we will gain strength by Avrestling 
with difficulties ; we will learn wisdom from defeat, 
we will reap profit from adversity, and will subject 
the petty and rasping annoyances of our condition 
to the higher aims of life. 

And here, let it not be forgotten, that upon the 



290 Christian Greatness. 

truth which I have just uttered, our Master hath laid 
a special stress. Although in the kingdoms of this 
world, it is common for men to choose their places 
of honor, power, or trust, to ply all the arts of in- 
trigue in order to obtain them, yet it is the law of 
Christ, that in his kingdom " it shall not be so." 
It is not this or that position which renders his true 
servant happy, but love to the service itself. And 
" real love,'^ as they tell us that Plato was wont to 
say, '' is a great enterpriser." Where the love of 
Christ, as a principle of action, rules in the heart, it 
not only makes a man's service voluntary^ but leads 
him to prefer, above all others, the place to which 
his Master's providence appoints him. His service 
is no slavish task-work. His usefulness is the free 
development of an inner life that allies him to the 
*' ministering spirits " of heaven. Throughout the 
domain of nature, soulless things are useful ; the 
brook that slakes your thirst, and the rock that shel- 
ters you ; the brutes also, following their instinctive 
tendencies, like the ox or the horse, are useful. But 
in the kingdom of Christ, he who serves effectually, 
chooses usefulness as the object that attracts his af- 
fections, and as the greatness that satisfies his am- 
bition ; chooses it for Christ's sake as the proper 
aim of his being ; chooses it with an obedient, grate- 
ful, and joyous spirit, as the only pursuit congenial 
with the aspirations of a sinful man '' redeemed from 
the bondage of corruption," to participate in " the 
glorious liberty of the sons of God." 

It is fitting, certainly, that on an occasion like the 
present, this subject which our Lord commended to 



Christian Greatness. 291 

the consideration of his followers, should be allowed 
to detain our attention, and should be held before 
the eye of the mind until it shall have assumed a 
clearly defined form, and shall have been surveyed 
in its relations to religion, to character and life. 
Because, it must be obvious to all, that the departed 
friend, whose loss we so deeply deplore, is endeared 
to the memory of those " who knew him best and 
loved him most " as a noble example of this idea of 
Christian greatness. This is his chief distinction. 
This is the sentiment that must give form to his ap- 
propriate epitaph. Simple in his aims, unostenta- 
tious in his manners, childlike in his spirit, never- 
theless, he was '' great among us.'' He was great 
" before the Lord," and in the eyes of men. He did 
not seek greatness as an end, but it came as an ef- 
fect, according to the moral laws which God has or- 
dained ; it followed as naturally as a man's shadow 
will follow him when he walks erect in the sunlight. 
It is not of any single action, or series of actions, 
standing out in a marked distinction from the line 
of his daily conduct, that we predicate this quality 
of greatness ; but it is of a long, well-sustained, in- 
fluential course of active life, considered as a whole, 
that we afl^rm this excellence, and thus pay to it the 
just tribute of a eulogy, in comparison with whose 
enduring worth the titles of honor that selfish am- 
bition covets are but as childish mimicry. 

For the reason that we have just suggested, the 
history of his life may be briefly told. Let us notice 
the points by which its outline may be traced. 

Friend Humphrey was born at Simsbury, Hart- 



292 Christian Greatness. 

ford County, Connecticut, on the eighth of March. 
1787. His father, Noah Humphrey, was a respected 
and upright christian man, of Welsh descent, whose 
days were spent chiefly in the quiet employments of 
his farm, which lay along the banks of the Farming- 
ton river. That New England homestead was the 
birth-place of eleven children, of whom seven were 
sons. Of those sons, only one now remains, Dr. G-i- 
deon Humphrey, of Burlington, New Jersey, whom . 
we are permitted to behold in our midst to-day. Of 
that family group, the oldest boy entered the*revo- 
lutionary army when fourteen years of age. Friend 
was the youngest ; and, before he had reached his 
seventh year, was bereaved of his father by the hand 
of death. For several succeeding years he remained 
with his mother, lightening her cares with filial as- 
siduity. An old proverb says that ^' the boy is the 
father of the man ;^^ we see a gleam of this truth in 
the remark of that favored mother, who was heard 
to say that her youngest boy was the best inan she 
could obtain to take the care of her garden. Even 
then, useful labor was his pleasure and his recre- 
ation. 

Perhaps it was this trait of his youthful character 
which commended him to the attention of Judge 
Burt, of New Hartford, a friend of the family, who, 
as it is said, '' took a fancy to the lad,'' and who pro- 
posed to his mother to take the charge of him, in 
order that he might train him up to a useful trade. 
The advice was followed, and this event became the 
turning-point of his history. The business of a tan- 
ner was begun in Connecticut ; but Judge Burt, who 



Christian Greatness. 293 

was truly a religious man, removed to Lansingburg, 
in this neighborhood, and thither young Humphrey 
accompanied him. There he was awakened by the 
divine Spirit to a sense of his sinfulness, was led to 
embrace by faith the Saviour as revealed to us in the 
gospel, and there made a profession of religion by 
being baptized, and by uniting himself to the church 
in the nineteenth year of his life. Soon afterward, 
he removed to this city, and, ere long, entered upon 
that mercantile career in which he so fully verified 
the spying, that " the path of the just is as the shin- 
ing light that shineth more and more until the per- 
fect day.'' With every revolving year that light 
became more widely diffused, and never suffered an 
eclipse. And here let it be declared, and let it be 
remembered, that the earliest notice which we have 
of his residence in Albany, is found in the official 
records of the church, with which he must have con- 
nected himself soon after his arrival with the least 
possible delay. This fact is very significant, because 
it is in such perfect keeping with his whole charac- 
ter. In too many instances a change of residence 
marks the era of religious decline, because it rends 
the bonds of christian association, and furnishes an 
opportunity to release one's self from the responsi- 
bility of church-membership. But it was not so with 
Friend Humphrey. When I consider the weakness 
of the Baptist Church in Albany at that period — 
when I call to mind the little band of men and 
women who constituted it, and who could hold their 
meetings for worship in the private parlor of the 
smallest dwelling — when I see how speedily this 



294 Christian Greatness. 



young man, after having reached his newly-adopted 
home, seeks them out, identifies his interests with 
theirs, participates in their struggles, brings to their 
counsels the ardor of youth combined with the sober 
judgment of manhood, and now observe that, after 
the lapse of almost half a century, the last ofl&cial 
record of his connection with the church on earth, is 
about to be made amidst the tears of his brethren 
which embalm the remembrance of his name, I can- 
not forbear to blend with my thanksgivings the 
plaintive cry, God of Israel ! on whom shall the 
mantle of thy departed servant fall. 

In this connection it is proper to state, that Mr. 
Humphrey was one of the constituting members of 
the First Baptist Church of Albany, and was present 
at its organization, in the year 1811, on the 23d of 
January. On the 11th of July, the same year, he 
was appointed to serve the church temporarily, in 
the office of deacon, into which office he was after- 
wards inducted according to ancient usages, and in 
which he continued until he was dismissed in the 
autumn of 1834, with one hundred and twenty others, 
under the ministry of Rev. Dr. Welch, to constitute 
the North Pearl-street Baptist Church, of which he 
continued an active member and its senior deacon 
to the close of his life. This record of his official 
relation to the church is very brief ; it may be com- 
prised within the compass of a few lines. The eye 
of a stranger may peruse it without the awakening 
of any emotion ; it seems but a dry fragment of our 
annals. But there are many here to-day, on whose 
ears this announcement falls, to whom it is sugges- 



Christian Greatness. 295 

tive of remembrances that spring from the deepest 
fountains of feeling in the soul ; to whose retrospec- 
tive glance it brings up a long course of that " pa- 
tient continuance in well-doing/' which opened such 
ample scope for the exercise of the highest faculties 
of his mind and the finest feelings of his heart; 
which put steadily in requisition his knowledge of 
human nature, his comprehensive forecast, his finan- 
cial skill, his exhaustless liberality, his sympathy for 
the poor, his magnanimity and forbearance combined 
with clearness of judgment and decision of purpose. 
With a sweet gentleness of manner that invited^the 
approach of the timid, united to a dignity that at 
once commanded respect from the rash or overbear- 
ing, he was a living exemplification of those manly 
virtues and christian graces that qualify one to " use 
the ofllce of a deacon well f so that in the assem- 
blies for devotion, in the meetings for business, in 
the chamber of poverty or the mansion of affluence, 
he seemed to be equally at ease and at home. But, 
then, in the development of these qualities, he was 
so constant, so humble, so unobtrusive, that, unless 
I were gifted with the observant eye of one of those 
" ministering spirits '^ who hover around the paths 
of faithful men by day and by night, it were impos- 
sible to picture adequately forth those scenes which 
illustrated these elements of his character. And, 
therefore, it is, no doubt, that T^hen I speak in your 
presence, my brethren, of that career of usefulness 
which he fulfilled in the services of the deaconship, 
you join with me in applying to it the language of 



296 Christian Greatness. 

the Patriarch, its ^' witness is in heaven, its record 
is on high/^ 

And while I speak thus of that faithful constancy 
with which he fulfilled his duties as a member and 
officer of the church, it must not be overlooked that 
in those relations he exhibited, from the days of his 
youth, a worthy example of that enlargedness of soul 
with which we have been familiar in his later years. 
If ever any one had a fair show of reason for con- 
tracting his sympathies, or efforts, or pecimiary con- 
tributions within the narrow sphere of his church 
and neighborhood, surely he must have had it in 
those days .when the claims of a cause that was 
struggling for existence in his own . city seemed 
enough to task him to the utmost of his ability. 
But, although his charity began at home, it did not 
end here. Who was more ready than he to help 
forward the spread of the gospel in foreign lands ? 
Who took hold of the enterprise of ministerial edu- 
cation with a firmer hand ? Who was more tho- 
roughly interested in supplying the destitute parts 
of our own country with religious privileges, by 
means of missionaries. Sabbath schools, and churches ? 
In all these lines of direction, his influence on the 
church was benign and elevating ; because, with a 
width of view which took within its scope the mani- 
fold interests of Christ's kingdom throughout the 
world, he set an example of that enlarged and prac- 
tical spirit of Christianity which the wants of our 
age so urgently demand. 

In the year 1810, when he was twenty-three years 
of age, Mr. Humphrey was married to Miss Hannah 



Christian Greatness. 297 

Hinman, the oldest daughter of Dr. Hinman. of Lan- 
singburg, a most amiable lady, of a spirit congenial 
with his own. Of her he was bereaved by death 
after a lapse of twelve years. In the j^ear 1825 he 
was married again to Miss Julia Ann Hoyt, daughter 
of David P. Hoyt, Esq., of Utica. In this union, 
too, he was fortunate, as most of those that are here 
present are well aware, inasmuch as the memory 
of that excellent woman, who was removed from 
amongst us only within a recent period, is cherished 
with lively emotions throughout a wide circle of 
acquaintanceship. The happiness of Mr. Humphrey 
in these domestic connections was a source of happi- 
ness to others ; for in the earlier, as well as in the 
later years of his life, his house has been the scene 
of an attractive hospitality, to which the lyrical 
strain of Goldsmith might be well applied : — 

" Blest be the spot where cheerful guests retire, 
To pause from toil, and trim their evening fire ; 
Blest that abode where want and pain repair, 
And every stranger finds a ready chair." 

In vain would be the attempt to estimate how 
many a weary pilgrim, how many a needy traveller, 
ministers of the Gospel and missionaries of the 
Cross, have been greeted with a welcome of the 
heart beneath his roof; especially in those days 
when the Western portions of this State were cov- 
ered with primeval forests, relieved only, here and 
there, by the rising settlement or thrifty village 
which opened a new and hopeful field to the spirit 
of religious enterprise. 



298 Christian Greatness. 

Mr. Humphrey had now attained the plentitude 
of his manly faculties. His capacities for civil life 
had gradually unfolded themselves, had become 
generally understood, and were constantly called 
into action by the voice of the community. His 
course of public service began in the autumn of the 
year 1819, when he was elected Assistant Alderman 
for the Fifth Ward. In the year 1820 he was re- 
elected. In September, 1821, he was re-elected for 
the First Ward. In September, 1822, he was elected 
Alderman for the First Ward. In September, 1823, 
he was re-elected. In September, 1827, he was re- 
elected ; again, in the year 1828 ; and again, in 
1832. During several of the intervening years he 
held the office of Supervisor of the ward in which he 
resided. 

In November, 1839, he was elected a Senator 
for the third senatorial district in this State. He 
occupied a seat in the Senate during the years 1840 
and 1841. 

In April, 1843, he was elected Mayor of the city. 
In April, 1844, he was re-elected. He was again 
elected in 1849, and held the office until May 1850. 
This was the last civil office that he filled. During 
the last thirty-five years he has been a candidate for 
the suffrages of the people, at least twenty times, and 
has never but once been defeated. 

He never sought office. Whenever he accepted it 
he did so at the solicitation of others ; and often, 
(as I have been assured by Judge Harris, who speaks 
from personal observation,) ^' when urged to take a 
nomination he refused to yield his assent." His 



Christian Greatness. 299 

tastes and habits qualified him to enjoy the walks 
of private life, the tranquil pleasures of home, the 
society of his family and children, far more than all 
the honors that could be gathered from the most ele- 
vated and conspicuous spheres of public action. 

He never engaged in any undertaking to which he 
was not adequate. Commanding general confidence 
he was an eflScient, because he was a trusted leader. 
The sterling integrity which he displayed in scenes 
of commercial business he carried with him into the 
arena of politics ; and, in that achievement, reared 
another trophy of true Christian greatness. He was 
faithful to his convictions of right, of truth, and of 
duty. He never could be counted upon safely to help 
forward any scheme of intrigue ; but he could be fully 
relied upon to occupy his proper post in any emer- 
gency. Men always knew where to find him. In the 
store, the counting-room, in the bank, in the council- 
chamber, in the hall of legislation, in the family, the 
social circle, in the sanctuary of God, he was the 
same man. A change of scene or of associations 
neither wrought nor developed any difference of 
character. Every where he had the same principles 
and spirit, the same religion, the same manners. 
Rather slow of speech, his natural intuitions were 
quick and penetrating. In all deliberations respect- 
ing men or measures, he saw directly to the core of 
things. His perception of great principles was very 
clear ; his intellectual grasp of them was firm. Wary 
and cautious in forming his opinions, he could never 
be enticed or driven to abandon them. He was de- 
cided in his attachments to the party with which he 



300 Christian Greatness. 

acted ; yet never sunk the character of the man, the 
patriot, or the Christian in that of the partizan. 
Men of conflicting sentiments often united in listen- 
ing to his counsels, and in acting on his suggestions, 
because they felt that they thoroughly understood 
him, that his aims were transparent, and his words 
without guile. Thus Friend Humphrey '' fulfilled 
his course ;'^ the noble specimen of a true man, and 
of a Christian, '' the highest style of man. ^^ 

During the greater part of his life he enjoyed un- 
interrupted health. His stalwart, well-proportioned 
frame, his countenance, expressive of serene benig- 
nity, his gait, manner, and tones of voice, making on 
every one the impression of a strong, self-possessed, 
" a sound mind in a sound body,^^ — ^not only qualified 
him to exert an influence over men in the ordinary 
pursuits of life, but also to stand forth at the head 
of a municipal government as the representative of 
authority. Hence, in periods of stormy agitation, 
such as are likely to make their appearance now and 
then, in the history of every city, when all his phys- 
ical and moral energies have been aroused into ac- 
tion,, he has been found to be '^ the man for the 
times,'' and by the mere force of character has ex- 
erted a mighty sway over the popular mind, so as to 
calm " the noise of the waves, the tumults of the 
people.'^ As a public officer he was ever prompt to 
meet the demands of his position with a humane, 
conscientious and courageous spirit. The first se- 
vere shock which his health received was expe- 
rienced in the performance of the duties connected 
with the mayoralty, in that year which was distin- 



Christian Greatness. 801 

guished by the last visitation of Asiatic cholera. 
He appeared, however, to have risen superior to its 
debilitating influence, until within a few months 
past, when his final sickness commenced. His dis- 
order^ was of a subtle character, slow and sure in 
its progress, and attended with excruciating pangs. 

Toward the close of the last Autumn, when I first 
began to visit him as his minister, his mind had taken 
on a mood of gloomy depression, the natural effect 
of confinement on a man of active habits. From 
that condition he emerged by the quickening of his 
religious sensibilities ; and the soul, animated by the 
faith of Christ, showed that it could triumph over 
the most powerful assaults of disease and pain. 

But no tongue, no pen can describe the scenes of 
suffering through which he has passed. What weari- 
some nights were appointed unto him ! For succes- 
sive weeks he lay not once upon his bed ; but, in the 
intervals of racking paroxysm, would take some brief 
repose in his chair, or else standing up, supported 
on either side by a friendly hand. Several times 
amidst throes that seemed like those of mortal 
agony, he expressed to me the fear that he would be 
bereft of reason ; and while a manly tear started 
from his eye, he exclaimed, " What if I should be 
left to rave ! What if I should be heard to blas- 
pheme that holy name by which I have been called !^' 
It was a terrible presentiment. I said to him on one 
of those occasions, My dear sir, entertain not such a 
thought ! God has kept you so far, he will keep 

* Enlarged prostrate gland. 



302 Christian Greatness. 

you unto the end. Eememlier the past, and trust 
Him for the future. Take now this promise to your 
heart : " When thou passest through the fire thou 
shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle 
upon thee.'^ You see that the promise is not that 
the people of God shall be exempt from passing 
through the fire, but it is that they shall not be con- 
sumed. '^ Aye,'^ said he, ^' that is it, that is it ; it is 
the very promise suited to me ; I will trust and not 
be afraid." 

A few nights since, he was standing in a similar 
condition. Grasping with his hands the back of a 
sofa which had been turned toward him in order 
that he might support himself, a strong man holding 
him up by each arm, he seemed to find a momentary 
relief in conversation. I was led to observe, Sir, it 
is painful to us to see you suffer while we can do 
nothing to assuage your pains. But in all this I 
have one comfort. In your case it is only the body 
that suffers. Your soul can bask in the light of 
God's countenance. You have mental peace, be- 
cause you have a Saviour. What, if like some that 
I have seen, you had been left to seek your salvation 
in your last sickness, and were groping about to find 
some solid grounds of confidence ? ^' Yes," he ex- 
claimed, " thank God for that ! It is ' only the 
body!' I know in whom I have believed. This 
chastening, for the present, is grievous, but the fu- 
ture is bright!" 

On the last Tuesday evening, as I entered his 
chamber, after having been a few hours absent from 
the city, he saluted me with the exclamation^ " Dear 



Christian Greatness. 303 

sir, I am here yet ! '^ To this I replied by the in- 
quiry (containing an allusion to some remarks that 
he had made on the day preceding), Did you expect 
to leave this world before we should meet again ? 
He answered, " Yes ; twenty times last night I 
thought my hour had come, and, if I may so speak, I 
tried to die. But then, on reflection, it seemed to me 
to be as wrong to wish to die before God's time as 
it is to wish to live beyond it. So I checked the 
wish, and concluded that it is best to be quietly and 
submissively in God's hands, and wait my appointed 
time.'' Friends and hearers, it is natural for us to 
admire such a sentiment ; it is easy for us to express 
it while in the possession of health and strength ; 
but when I heard it uttered by the lips of one who 
was grappling with the agonies of dissolution, it 
seemed to me to be the expression of an heroic faith 
having an aspect of true moral sublimity. 

Throughout the whole of Wednesday last he ap- 
peared to be failing fast, and consciously drawing 
near the final moment. Comparatively speaking, 
his sufferings had ceased. He spoke but little. His 
inability to receive either food or medicine, indi- 
cated the exhaustion of his powers. Throughout 
the evening his respirations became shorter, his 
head gradually sunk upon his breast, until, at last, 
he ceased to breathe. Yet, the expression of his 
countenance was such as to lead his physician. Dr. 
Cogswell, who was standing near him, to say to me 
in a subdued whisper, but a few minutes before the 
final expiration, " He knows us all, and hears all 
that is said." It was the peaceful close of a useful 



304 Christian Gbeatness. 

life. The scene was adapted to impress every be- 
holder with the idea of moral grandeur. For, there 
he sat in his chair as if calmly waiting for death ; 
and after death had come, his position would have 
realized an old Roman's loftiest conception of dignity, 
while there he sat as one enjoying repose after an 
arduous contest : 

— " like a warrior taking his rest, 



With his martial cloak around him." 

He is gone ! And now, as we look in each other's 
faces, and repeat that sentence in each other's ears, 
we sympathize in the sense of painful bereavement. 
The fact, as yet, scarcely seems real. But yesterday 
we went in company to his tomb. The unostenta- 
tious character of the funeral was an expression of 
the character of the man ; for it was in obedience 
to his own instructions that there should be only a 
simple service after the common manner. The 
general suspension of business and the Sabbath-like 
silence of the streets indicated an all-pervading 
grief. I participate largely in the common sorrow ; 
for memory reverts to those years of my youth when 
I was accustomed to linger on my visits to his 
pleasant home, during intervals of release from 
academic study, and when I began to cherish toward 
him a feeling akin to the filial ; and I am, too, op- 
pressed with a sense of disappointment, because the 
prospect of my residence in this city was lately illu- 
mined by the anticipation of enjoying his society. 
But it becomes us all to bow submissively to the 
announcement of God's sovereign will, and to bless 



Christian Greatness. 305 



his name for all the good that he hath wrought 
amongst us, and in the world around us, by the 
hand of his servant, who hath now gone to his grave 
as the shock of corn goeth " in its season ^' to the 
garner. 



CHRISTIANITY 



AND 



PAUPERISM 



DISC OURSE. 



CHRISTIANITY AND PAUPERISM j 

A DISCOURSE. 



PSALM XLI. I. 

BLESSED IS HE WHO COXSIDERETH THE POOR. 

The text describes a character. It would let us 
know, who it is that may be called a happy man, and 
asserts that it is the charitable man — he who consider- 
eth the poor. The selfish man of the world, taking 
• counsel of his own heart, may ask, ^' How can that 
be ? Is there any anything attractive in the sight of 
squalid want, of tattered garments, of bitter tears, 
and helpless misery ? I can conceive of enjoyment 
in considering the wonders and glories of creation, 
the sky, and earth, and sea, in their mild beauty or 
their stormy grandeur ; in beholding the bloom of 
Nature, or the charms of art, in surrounding one's 
self with the innocent delights which wealth may 
command — the comforts of home and the pleasures 
of select society ; in breathing the fresh and fragrant 
air of one's own parlor, where the sweet influences 
of music, and song, and literature, and friendship, 
all combine to dispel care, to soften the asperities 
of life, to smooth the brow, and light up the features 
with the expression of a chastened hilarity. These 
are things worth living for, and the anticipation of 



310 Christianity and Pauperism. 

them nerves me to dare and to endure. And having 
gained all these, can it be happiness to leave all, even 
for an hour, to breathe the damp, pent-up air of the 
garrets and cellars of the poor ; to hear their com- 
plaints, to share their sorrows, and to diminish one's 
amount of property for their sake ? No. You may- 
call it a duty, a task — a tax to be paid — a burden to 
be borne ; but it is contrary to reason and expe- 
rience to call it a means of happiness ^ So speaks 
the mere worldling, both in theory and practice. 
The '' luxury of doing good " he knows not. Of the 
charity that is " twice blessed — blessing him that 
gives and him that takes '' — he has no conception. 
The very phrase seems to be drawn from the ro- 
mance, not the reality of life. His oracle does not 
teach it, his maxims do not recognize it. No : the 
doctrine that it is happiness to consider the poor, that 
it is " more blessed to give than to receive,*' is not 
the language of the world's philosophy, nor a senti- 
ment inspired by the genius of ambition, nor pro- 
mulgated from the throne of fashion ; but the teach- 
ing of that Cliristianity, whose spirit is the spirit of 
pure benevolence, and which seeks to touch and 
move our hearts by the example of him who, though 
he was rich, for our sakes became poor, that we, 
through his poverty, might be made rich. 

The world's philosophy has no heart. The Epicu- 
rean said to his disciple, " Take care of your health, 
avoid excess in order to avoid satiety — be temperate 
in order to enjoy — surround yourself with all that is 
agreeable, shun all unpleasant sights and sounds — 
and thus will you attain the chief end of man." As 



Christianity and Pauperism. 311 

the oracle spoke, Sensuality took the hint, placed 
herself among the virtues, and in the name of reason 
extinguished sympathy for the poor. The Stotic 
said, "Take things as they come, Fate governs all 
— what is, cannot be altered, and the wise man cares 
for nothing. Do you complain of pain ? Believe 
me, it is no evil. Do you groan under misfortune ? 
Be a man, and despise it. Do you speak of poverty 
and privation ? A wise man will be as happy in 
that condition as any other. Do you grieve for the 
woes of others ? Eschew such sorrows. Why should 
I pity others, since I should be ashamed to ask or 
receive pity for myself ? '^ Thus, to get rid of mis- 
ery, it crushed sensibility, turned the heart of flesh 
to stone, and cherished a pride whose tender mercy 
was cruel. 

Paganism had no heart. The natural religious 
sentiment, perverted into superstition, clothed in the 
garb of an elegant mythology, leading to the wor- 
ship of 

Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust, 
Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust, 

did nothing to promote the growth of charity, or 
meliorate the condition of the poor. It gave man 
up to vile affections, quickened his lowest propensi- 
ties, established their dominion, and left him " im- 
placable and unmerciful.'' Neither in Greece, or 
Italy, where it put on its finest form, did it leave 
any memorial of its beneficence in the shape, of a 
hospital, or a public institution to benefit the 'poor. 
The nearest approach to aught like this, was a reg- 



312 Christianity and Pauperism. 

Illation of Trajan, for the education of poor children, 
which he first confined to Rome, and then extended 
to Italy. It was, however, an imperial decree, not 
a charitable institution ; for the legal interest of 
money being then twelve per cent., the Emperor lent 
money at five per cent., and obliged all his debtors 
to pay the interest into an office established for the 
purpose. The interest being low, the number of 
borrowers was large, and the treasury overflowing. 
But this was an appeal to covetousness, not to ben- 
evolence, and in keeping with the spirit of a low 
and selfish system of religion. It remained for 
Christianity to proclaim to the world the true law 
of love ; to take this element of goodness, which Ju- 
daism had confined to a narrow pale, and to make it 
universal ; and in saying to each and all. Thou shalt 
love thy neighbor as thyself, to show that the angels 
who had heralded its birth, were true to its spirit 
of philanthropy, when they sang. Peace on earth 
and good-will to man. 

But in Christianity there is no ultraism. That is, 
there is in it no tendency to fix the attention on one 
thing, to the neglect of the relations which it bears 
to other things. It has no such impress of human 
imperfection. Its mercy has a definite relation to 
justice ; its benefactions are suited to condition and 
character. In seeking to relieve poverty, it does 
not overlook the cause and cure of poverty. It does 
not forget that industry is a virtue, that idleness is 
a shame and sin ; that to give alms to a beggar who 
is able to help himself, is to award a premium to 
sloth, to nourish vice, and so to increase the evil 



Christianity and Pauperism. 313 

which we profess to remedy. Thus it enforces the 
arrangement of the Author of Nature, who has made 
exertion essential to comfort. It declares that 
"drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags;'' that 
while the garden of the sluggard is bearing briars, 
and he folds his hands, ^' his poverty shall come as 
one that travaileth, and his want as an armed man ;'' 
that he loho dealeth with a slack hand, shall be poor, and 
with the voice of entreaty, beseeches all to study to 
be quiet, to do their own business, to work with their 
own hands, that they may walk honestly, and have lack 
of nothing ; and then, with the voice of authority, 
utters its command, saying, " If any man will not 
work, neither shall he eat.'' While, therefore, it 
teaches us to seek out and relieve helpless distress, 
it forbids us to reverse the law of Nature, which 
makes want the consequent of sloth, and the pains 
of hunger the punishment of a wilful and shameless 
beggary. 

Thus we see that the benevolence of Christianity 
commands the respect of the judgment, as well as 
the suffrage of the heart ; addresses not only the 
feeling of compassion, but also the sense of justice 
and of fitness. A system of charity, in order to gain 
an effective hold upon the mind of an intelligent com- 
munity, must have regard to both of these elements. 
Now, it is quite remarkable, that wherever the teach- 
ings of the Bible have not furnished a standard of 
action, where they have been unknown or unstudied, 
there has been a neglect of one or the other of these 
features in the mode of treating the poor. The poor 
have either been despised, or else helped in such a 



314 Christianity and Pauperism. 

way as to injure them. Poverty has been treated 
with cruelty, as if it were a deserved disgrace and 
punishment, or else so relieved as to aggravate it. 
Alms have either been withheld entirely, or so dis- 
pensed as to extinguish in the poor all sense of honor 
or of shame, and to smooth their path, in descending 
to still lower depths. The sigh of distress has been 
constantly opening afresh the fountains of feeling in 
the bosoms of the compassionate, and the abuses of 
compassion have been steeling the hearts of another 
class of men against all appeals to pity. 

How to give immediate relief to the sufferings of 
poverty, so as not to increase its ultimate virulence, 
is a grave and interesting problem. Especially must 
it be so regarded by a youthful nation like this, who 
can exclude from our soil the very germs of those 
evils, which the older nations of the world are la- 
boring as with convulsive death-throes to extirpate. 
What deep groans is England heaving at this hour, 
under the weight of her pauperism ! It has been 
said by Lord Brougham, in his place in the House 
of Lords, that ^' the sad system of the poor laws had 
entailed on the people of the country miseries which 
were yet unmeasured. They had ruined the property 
of the country, and brought equal ruin on the char- 
acter of the laboring classes. They had led these 
classes into a condition where industry was robbed 
of its rights, and idleness, vice, and profligacy had 
usurped those rights ; while property was reduced 
to a state (not even by a change so beneficial as an 
agrarian law,) bordering on destruction. In short, 
England, under the operation of those poor laws, 



Christianity and Pauperism. 316 

exhibited at this moment a country, where was peace 
without plenty, profound outward tranquillity, with 
constant inward disturbance, and rancor between 
the two great classes — the laborers and the rich/' 
These truths are as obvious as they are startling. 

The American, on arriving in England, is often 
struck with the fact, that the poor around him, who 
have emerged to the light of day, have come up from 
far lower depths of misery and degradation, than 
any which exists in his native land. And yet in 
England, the poor rates amount to more than twice 
the expenses of government in the United States — 
even to thirty millions of dollars a year ! Besides 
this, what a vast amount is given by the hand of 
private charity to the deserving poor, as well as to 
professed beggars ! Bad as the moral effect of lux- 
ury may be, it is doubtless far better for society, that 
the rich should spend their money in the luxuries 
that create employment, than that by a close econ- 
omy they should give all their surplus to the poor. 

It matters somewhat, but not a great deal, whether 
the begging poor can calculate on a sum of money 
furnished by poor laws, or by charitable societies. 
In the latter case, there is a stronger appeal to grat- 
itude. But in either case, the sum is placed among 
their regular expenditures ; the good which it does 
them is very temporary, while the evil is very great 
and lasting. How effectually does it palsy the spirit 
of self-reliance, the principle of self-respect, and 
break the inward spring of moral energy and manly 
virtue ! The more ample and sure these provisions 
are beyond a certain limit, the more numerous the 



316 Christianity and Pauperism. 

poor become. The truth of this may be seen illus- 
trated in some parts of Italy, where, according to 
the popular doctrine, almsgiving is made so much of 
as . a meritorious means of purchasing Divine re- 
wards. There, the splendors of the sky, the balmy 
air, the fertile fields, the miracles of art and genius, 
often awaken in the traveller's bosom an exquisite 
pleasure, which ever and anon is marred and dis- 
sipated by the scenes of human wretchedness around 
him. At Rome, you might be lingering, on some 
evening, at sunset, around that most delightful spot, 
the Pincian Way, admiring the city spread out be- 
low and beyond you, and the radiance of the western 
horizon, falling in a rich flood upon the mighty dome 
of St. Peter's. You might be saying to yourself, 
*' What a paradise is this !'' But scarcely would you 
have time to become absorbed in the enchanting 
vision, ere beggary thrusts its deformities in your 
sight, lifts its piteous moan, and presses its harass- 
ing supplication. It is a poverty, too, which seems 
to be more deeply engraven in the countenance, than 
any which we see here, and to have touched the 
shrivelled skin, and every nerve and muscle, with a 
strange power of expressing wretchedness. If any 
of you have seen West's picture of Christ healing 
the sick, you have probably noticed with what skill 
the painter has aimed to show the fact, that in the 
old world, where poverty is transmitted from gen- 
eration to generation, most wonderfully a man be- 
comes a very personification of imbecility and mis- 
ery. And yet at Rome there are richly-endowed 
institutions for the poor, twenty-two hospitals, and 



Christianity and Pauperism. 317 

indeed a patrimony with as large a revenue as is 
to be found in any city in Christendom. 

If, then, experiments at home, if observation 
abroad, if the history of the world, prove any thing, 
it is, that indiscriminate almsgiving inflicts a heavy 
curse ; that to permit those who can and ought to 
take care of themselves, to depend on alms at all, is 
to aggravate calamity. It is to unnerve the inner 
man, to foster habits adverse to the earthly, spir- 
itual, and eternal good of the poor, and to bring a 
mighty mass of " dead weight '^ upon an active com- 
munity. Instances have been known in this country 
and in others, of men, just able to s^istain themselves 
by their labor, under an extraordinary pressure, be- 
ing invited to partake of some surplus provision for 
the poor. At first, they have declined, but have at 
last consented ; and from that hour to the day of 
their death, their names were never off the poor list. 
Who, that thinks how widely spread and deeply 
rooted is pauperism in other lands, is not appalled 
at the thought of its growing with our growth and 
strengthening with our strength, — of its increasing 
its multitudes here, where each class of society is so 
intimately united to every other, bound together in 
one social compact, and one civil destiny? The 
question before us, then is, — what is to be done ? In 
that, each individual should take an interest. The 
generic answer to the question is that which the text 
suggests, to consider the poor. To develop and ap- 
ply this direction, in a few particulars, will occupy 
the remainder of this discourse. Let me ask you, 



318 Christianity and Pauperism. 

then, to proceed with me, while I consider the con- 
dition of the poor, and the duties thence arising. 

The poor, in all countries, may be divided into 
several classes. I. There are the vicious poor. The 
chief vices which degrade them, the causes of their 
poverty, are idleness and intemperance. The action 
of these is reciprocal. The one produces or fosters 
the other ; and either may bring all evils in its 
train. Sloth throws open the flood gates of tempta- 
tion. It has been well said, " an idle mind is the 
deviVs workshopj^ and the way in which he works has 
been described somewhere, by a poetic pen. 

Of sloth comes weariness — of that comes drinking: 
Of drinking comes disease, of disease comes spending ; 
Of spending comes want — of want comes theft ; 
Of theft comes what? — a sad catastrophe — 
Disgrace without, a hell within, a death nnmoiirned. 

Three fourths of the pauperism in this land 
spring from intemperance, and the evil defies relief, 
until the cause be removed. Yet in looking at the 
history of intemperance, let it not be forgotten, that 
the sin of it among the poor is to some extent to be 
charged upon the rich. How could the poor be pre- 
served from the vortex of intemperance, when the 
rich smoothed the way thither by their example ? 
Whilst the use of ardent spirits was fashionable and 
honorable — when the invitation to partake of it was 
deemed the appropriate expression of hospitality--- 
when it was taken at all seasons and on all occasions 
— in winter to guard against cold, and in summer to 
guard against heat ; to nerve the body amidst the 



Christianity and Pauperism. 319 

lassitude of labor, and to exhilarate the heart when 
the spirits were depressed, how could the poor, who 
had ffenfold more need of such a panacea than the 
rich, be expected to resist the influence of public 
opinion and practice ? Oh no ; when now you see 
the poor victim of intemperance, clad in rags, or 
shivering with cold, cut him not loose at once from 
your sympathies, as being the sole and guilty author 
of his woes, but remember, that he may have been 
borne onward to his ruin upon the tide of influence 
which has come down from the high places of the 
land, and which, though smooth and gentle in its 
flow, terminates in a dark unfathomed gulf of help- 
less misery. 

After all that you have read and heard and thought 
upon this subject, it is not needful that I should now 
speak to you of the evils of intemperance, of the na- 
ture and power of alcohol, its effects upon the body 
and mind of man, of the burning thirst which every 
drop creates for more, of the inflamed blood, the 
quickened pulse, the fevered brain, the weslkened 
muscle, the unnerved system, which it induces ; the 
callous conscience, the hardened heart, the blunted 
reason, the distorted judgment, the withered sympa- 
thies, the cold chills of a depressed spirit, or the un- 
earthly gleams of a frantic joy, which mark its pres- 
ence ; of the squandered wealth, the blasted reputa- 
tion, the domestic woes, the sighs of the mother, the 
tears of the wife, the maddening terrors of the child 
to which it gives rise ; of the rampant passions, and 
fiend-like purposes, and horrid crimes which it 
causes ; of the constant and increasing taxation of 



320 Christianity and Pauperism. 



health and wealth, and blood and souls, which this 
insatiate monster levies upon the community in 
which he is permitted to stalk abroad. 

But I will say, that it is in vain for us to deplore 
the evil of pauperism, and worse than in vain to give 
money to mitigate it, unless we do what we can to 
dry up the springs of intemperance. In order to do 
this, it becomes us to summon every element of law- 
ful power at our command. And truly, while ming- 
ling our griefs with those of many thousand helpless 
mourners, whose abodes this vice has made desolate, 
and while contributing from our purses to their 
relief, it is a hard thing to be told that legislation 
can do nothing for us. Is it not hard, that while 
you are taxed for the support of the poor slaves of 
intemperance in our asylums, I should be constrain- 
ed to ask you to come to our aid in saving from 
pinching cold and from starvation those more than 
widowed wives, those more than orphan children 
who are thus wantonly deprived of their natural 
protectors ? Yet this is a part of my mission as a 
Christian minister, and the philosophy of a free gov- 
ernment which prevails around us, tells you in effect, 
that no law can provide an antidote for such an evil, 
because, however largely it may swell its catalogue 
of woes, the right of individuals to inflict them can 
not be questioned, or at least not invaded. Never- 
theless, take courage ! The recent reform in Ire- 
land, achieved without the aid of legislation, is full 
of incitements to us to move on unweariedly in this 
great work. Marvellous as is the change wrought 
there, I doubt not that it will be lasting ; for when 



Christianity and Pauperism. 321 

the poor man comes to find on Saturday niglit, that 
he has more abundant comforts than he was wont in 
his cabin, a cheerful fire on his hearth, a happy fam- 
ily, and money to spare in his pocket, his eyes will 
be opened to the charms, and his heart enraptured 
by the blessings of temperance. 

But then, secondly, there are the helpless 2^007% 
whose poverty is the effect of natural causes.^ which 
include whatever takes from them the ability to la- 
bor. The blind, the lame, the maimed, the aged, 
orphan children, and such as are burdened with the 
support of others in a like condition, come within 
this class. Hard is their lot. To them life has but 
few attractions. They know nothing of its luxuries, 
but little of its comforts, and to them earth is, in 
every sense, ^' a vale of tears^'' except that, by means 
of the religion .which their faith embraces. Heaven 
pours its own light around their dark abode, and 
shows them, that from the gloomy pathway in which 
they walk, they will emerge into those realms of 
light and peace, where none shall say, " I am sick,^^ 
and where the tears shall be wiped from off all faces. 
With some such I am acquainted, and am much their 
debtor. I have learned much from them. I have 
learned lessons of contentment, more deeply learned 
them, than I could have done by any eloquence of 
words. I have learned the simplicity, the beauty, 
the power, of a vital faith in Christ ; its fitness to 
meet man's cravings amidst his darkest hours and 
deepest wants ; and if there be anj here who desire 
to advance in Christian virtue and practical wisdom, 
I commend such cases to your regard, tliat you may 



322 Christianity and Pauperism. 

know the full meaning of the text, " Blessed is the 
man that considereth the poor.'' 

Let no one deem this the mere language of ro- 
mance. There are those whose designation in the 
*' record on high/' is, the poor of my people. In the 
midst of their deep poverty, they are rich in the 
fruits of faith. How often have I thought of this, 
when accustomed to visit the chamber of one who 
had been confined to her bed for a long series of 
years. Emaciated, helpless, dependent to a great 
degree on the hand of charity, her features were 
usually lighted up with the expression of a heavenly 
peace of spirit. To the child of pleasure and of 
fashion, her abode might seem a gloomy place ; to 
her, it was " the gate of heaven." " It is true," she 
would say, '' my path seems dark and rough, but I 
am led by a kind Father's hand. I know that all 
things shall work together for good to them that 
love Him. His way is in the deep ; the dispensa- 
tions of his Providence are mysterious ; but then, 

" God is liis own interpreter, 
And he will make it plain." 

And truly, I ask, is it not plain to us all, that in 
such an instance of meek and suffering piety as this, 
God speaks to all who witness it, to teach us how 
little the world can do to make us really happy, and 
of what transcendent worth are " the riches of his 
grace," Thus, too, would he quicken our Christian 
sympathies into lively exercise, by leading us to a' 
tender treatment of those whom, by his own severe 
discipline, he is preparing for the skjes. For, doubt- 



Christianity and Pauperism. 323 

less, he often sees it to be best to blight our fairest 
worldly prospects, to draw our hearts to heaven. 
He mars our " pleasant pictures,'^ in order to save 
our souls. Just as it was when a celebrated artist 
stood on a lofty scaffold, endeavoring, by the touches 
of his magic pencil, to realize the ideas of beauty 
which were glowing in his mind. All absorbed in 
his tasteful employment, he was moving quickly 
backward to the edge of the precipice, to catch a 
new glimpse of the enchanting object, when in an in- 
stant a friendly hand seized a sponge, dashed it upon 
the picture, and by spoiling its beauty, saved his life. 
So God deals with men. The bereaving stroke is 
often a proof of his love ; and while he regards the 
sufferer with a friendly eye, has that sufferer no 
claim on our regard, sympathy and care? Most 
eminently shall it be found true, in such a case, " he 
that giveth unto the poor, lendeth unto the Lord." 

There is a third class, who may be called the 
temporarily poor, whose want arises from transient 
and accidental causes, — as misfortune in business, 
unproductive seasons, excessive cold, or lack of 
employment. They are those whose productive in- 
dustry is barely sufficient to meet their daily exi- 
gencies, and of course the moment their ability to 
work ceases, the pressure of want commences. Their 
case demands special and prompt attention, and 
peculiar care should be taken in dispensing aid, to 
do it in such a way as not to diminish their self- 
respect, nor to paralyze the spirit of independence 
which has lived in their bosoms as a spring of 
activity. It should prove itself to be the offspring 



324 Christianity and Pauperism. 

of a fraternal and manly sympathy, seeking to relieve 
a misfortune to which all are liable ; and this, in- 
stead of weakening, would quicken that generous 
ambition to do well, which leads one to look on 
" the bright side of things,'^ and to make the most 
of small advantages. 

In order to perform well the duties which we owe 
to this class, it becomes us to cherish a profound 
respect for man as man, a rational being and a 
creature of God, capable of being raised from the 
lowest depths of degradation to the highest walks 
of virtue, honor, and happiness. This will give 
power to our benevolence. It will beam forth from 
our features, it will animate our manners, it will 
modify our tones of voice, and will enable us to 
utter those '^ winged words,'^ which will find their 
way to the hearts of the poor. The spirit appro- 
priate to this service was once beautifully expressed 
by Boudon, an eminent French surgeon, who was 
called to perform an important operation on Cardi- 
nal du Bois, the Prime Minister of France. As he 
entered the room, the Cardinal said to him, " You 
must not expect to handle me so roughly as you do 
those miserable wretches at your hospitals.^^ The 
surgeon replied with dignity, " My lord, each one 
of those whom you are pleased to call miserable 
wretches, is a Prime Minister in my eyes !^^ 

A fourth class consists of the regular working poor^ 
whose labor is not sufficient to supply their wants. 
Their employment is variable ; they are dependent 
on uncertain jobs ; they live " from hand to mouth. ^^ 
The family, perhaps, is quite large, having in it a 



Christianity and Pauperism. 325 

number dependent on the rest — some either very 
old, or very young, or quite infirm. Bound together 
by the ties of family relationship, they often exhibit 
in a touching manner the domestic virtues, — meek- 
ness, tenderness, patience ; and, on the other hand, 
frequently show an utter destitution of all the quali- 
ties which make a happy home. These dwell on the 
borders of beggary. Hard pressed with car^, they 
are beset with temptations to cross that boundary, 
and take up begging as a trade. Still, for them, 
that would be a sad descent, both as to happiness 
and character. This class is very large, and makes 
a demand for the largest share of Christian con- 
sideration. There is continual danger, lest being 
sick at heart, with anxiety, disappointment, and 
neglect, they give themselves up doggedly to their 
fate, and cease to put forth that energy, which they 
possess for their own support. What these chiefly 
need, is the influence of personal friendship — a friend- 
ship which shall make them feel that they are thought 
of, cared for, respected ; and which will thence lead 
them to cherish self-respect. There is probably no 
one here who is not capable of being a friend, to 
act such a part for such a family. It would not cost 
much time or much money, and would often do more 
good than nioney. You may be forced to say, some- 
times, " silver and gold have I none ;" but if in the 
spirit of a friend to the poor, you add, " such as 1 
have, give I thee,^^ you may accomplish what would 
seem almost miraculous to the eyes of others, — in a 
sense, causing the lame to rise up and walk, thanking 
you and praising God^ 



326 Christianity and Pauperism. 

The class of the laboring poor of which I speak, 
are those who have hard work in buffeting the cur- 
rents of adversity ; and sometimes, as they look 
around, and feel themselves forgotten, they get dis- 
couraged, are tempted to give up exertion, and let 
themselves sink ; but the touch of a friendly hand, 
and the cheering of a friendly voice, will put new 
life into them, — will keep them head and breast 
above water, and perhaps incite them to struggle 
on, until they can place their feet on solid ground. 

Another thing which this class of the poor justly 
claim of us, is liberality in our dealings with them-. 
They ought not to be left to feel that the rich are 
their oppressors, who begrudge them the common 
blessings of Providence, and would wish them to 
wear a suppliant, cringing air, as if " begging pardon 
of all flesh for being in th6 world.'' This all acknow- 
ledge to be true ; and yet I might tell you of cases, 
like the one which I am about to mention, to illus- 
trate the principle. On a cold afternoon, a poor 
man saw a load of coal laid before the door of a 
wealthy merchant. By some mistake, no one had 
gone from the coal- wharf to throw it in. The 
passer-by requested the job. He was a father, 
having a sick wife, and several children dependent 
on him. He proposed to do the work for a reason- 
able sum, — not more than enough to buy a supper 
for his family. " That is too much, by half,'' said 
the merchant. The poor man began to plead his 
necessities. His manner proved his anxiety to 
obtain what he sought. This made the merchant 
sure of carrying his point, and he added, " You 



Christianity and Pauperism. 32 



O^l 



may take it, if you choose, for half what you ask ; 
if not, leave it,*^ — and turning his back, shut the 
door. That was a bitter moment to the laborer. 
In his bosom opposing feelings were struggling for 
the mastery. At first, he could not brook the 
thought of taking work on such terms. But then 
he remembered his cheerless home, his lielpless wife, 
and hungry children ; a tear coursed down his 
manly cheek, and seizing his shovel, achieved the 
job for nearly half of what he knew it to be worth. 

Was that treatment right ? No : it was grinding 
the face of the poor, and incurring that curse, which 
the Most High uttered, when he said, '' He that 
giveth to the poor shall not lack, but he that hideth 
his eyes shall have many a curse f " he that oppress- 
eth the poor reproacheth his Maker, but he that 
honoreth God, hath mercy on the poor.'^ 

Within a three minutes' walk from my dwelling, 
there lives a widow, who strives to support herself 
by daily labor. She is employed in making shirts, 
for each of which she receives seven cents. She is 
able to make seven of these articles in five days, 
and of course can earn but little over nine cents a 
day. Her whole time is employed, her whole 
strength is tasked, to gain such a paltry pittance. 
An artful beggar could get more, and without strong 
virtuous feelings, such persons must yield to the 
temptation to become beggars. Surely, it is dan- 
gerous to cherish a state of things in which any 
portion of the community are forced to feel that 
they may starve by industry, and thrive by beggary. 

In dealing with the active poor, we should show 



328 Christianity and Pauperism. 

a respect for industry, and endeavor to foster and 
reward it, whether it be in the case of a man who 
gains his living by his muscular strength, or a female 
who toils with her needle. Tor a people to cherish 
a right tone of feeling on this point, is better than 
to spend large fortunes in donations ; for by the 
former, we make the most of what power they have 
to help themselves, cherish their moral strength and 
active virtue ; by the latter, we do much to destroy 
all self-reliance, all generous aspirations. 

Eousseau, talking in the spirit of a chimerical 
. philosophy, thought that an equal division of pro- 
perty in a community would make all honest and 
peaceable, as it would remove all temptation to 
envy, theft, or violence. As well might he have 
said, that an equal distribution of books would 
make all men literary, or that an equal distribution 
of cold water would make all men temperate. No : 
evils which take their rise from the darkness of the 
mind, or the disorder of the moral feelings, cannot 
be removed by such specifics, or any change in the 
outward condition. The great thing to be done, is, 
to inculcate right principles, to call forth right aifec- 
tions, and to form right habits, which are " the ele- 
ments of character, and the masters of action. ^^ 

Having respect to these points, it only remains 
that we adopt some plan, by which, in the dispensa- 
tion of our charities to the needy, we may guard 
ourselves against the danger of encouraging idleness 
or imposture. To this subject, the attention of the 
Howard Benevolent Society of Boston has been 
steadfastly directed. On this account, they have 



Christianity and Pauperism. 329 

cheerfully cooperated with the '^ Society for the 
Prevention of Pauperism/'' which was formed in 
that city a few years ago. This Society, acting on 
the principle that prevention is better than a remedy, 
have aimed at crushing the very germs of pauperism. 
To do this, its first measure has been, to procure 
employment for the suifering poor, who were able 
and willing to work. During a single year, seven- 
teen hundred and six persons were provided with 
suitable places, through its agency. What a large 
proportion of these have probably been saved to 
themselves and to society ! Its next object is, to 
prevent the necessity of street begging. To accom- 
plish this, it provides, by its arrangements, for dis- 
pensing aid to those only who will not abuse it. It 
sustains an agent, who is constantly devoted to its 
service, and who may be found at his office every 
day, from nine to one o'clock, and who spends his 
afternoons in visiting those who need his personal 
attention ; ascertaining ' thus their character and 
condition, and the extent to which aid is desirable. 
Lest any should feel constrained, from the claims of 
humanity, to give at hazard to strangers at their 
doors, the Society furnishes tickets, at six cents 
each, with which it invites the benevolent to provide 
themselves ; and then, instead of giving money to 
an unknown applicant, to present him with one or 
more of these tickets, and direct him to the office, 
where his wants will be investigated, and proper 
relief afforded. If this plan should be universally 
adopted, it will form an effective check to a porten- 
tons and growing evil. 



330 Christianity and Pauperism. 

At the office of this central agency of which I 
speak, delegates from 'this and other benevolent 
associations of the city meet monthly, and review 
their doings, in order that the visitors of the poor 
may have fully before them the condition of all who 
have been the subjects of charity. In this way, they 
are enabled very soon to detect any impostor. Prom 
such a position, they may command a full view of 
the whole rugged landscape of pauperism, and con- 
cert the best measures to make its " crooked paths 
straight, its rough places plain, ^' and to throw over 
it a softened aspect of productive industry, peace, 
and happiness. 

Certainly no one, who considers for a moment 
how easily a large city may become the haunt of 
shameless mendicants, and that the very renown of 
its benevolence, the number of its charitable institu- 
tions, will attract hordes of such to its streets and 
recesses, can fail to see the necessity of some system, 
adapted to counteract so dreadful a tendency. To 
do this, a beginning has been made, and we call 
upon all that are near and around us, as men, citi- 
zens, and Christians, to cooperate in this work. 
Already the sons of New England, as they have 
viewed the multitudes of wretched beings who throng 
the capitals of Europe, and beset the traveller at 
every step of his way, have felt their hearts throb 
with grateful emotion, on being able to say, " the 
moans of beggary are rarely heard in Boston.'' 
Let us arise, and grapple with this evil in good 
earnest ; not merely that we may rejoice in so noble 
a distinction, but also that we may provoke others 



Christianity and Pauperism. 331 

to a like labor of love, — to a service so pleasing to 
God, so auspicious to man. 

Let it be the aim of all of us who profess to be 
Christians, to pass this part of our probation well ; 
to feel, in the retrospect of life, that we have so 
discharged our duties to the unfortunate around us, 
as to have become benefactors to them, and to our 
common country ; to be able to say, without invok- 
ing a curse on ourselves, in the language of the 
stricken Patriarch, " If I have withheld the poor 
from their desire, or have caused the eyes of the 
widow to fail, or have eaten my morsel myself alone, 
and the fatherless have not partaken thereof ; if I 
have seen any perish for want of clothing, or any 
poor without covering ; if his loins have not bles^d 
me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of 
my sheep ; if I have lifted up my hand against the 
fatherless, when I saw my help in the gate : then 
let mine arm fall from my shoulder-blade, and mine 
arm be broken from the bone.'' Oh ! may it be ours 
to share in the dignity of thousands of the poor, 
when they shall have exchanged their feeble, sickly 
frames for bodies refined, spiritual, and glorious ; 
their tattered garments for white robes ; their mis- 
erable hovels for mansions in the skies ; their deg- 
radation for immortal honor ; their tears for smiles ; 
their groans for hymns of praise. Then, may it be 
ours, to circle with them the same throne, to unite 
with them in worship, to sympathize in their grati- 
tude, and to bear a part in their immortal songs. 



CHRISTIANITY 



AND 



L IB E E A L-GITI NG 



CHRISTIANITY AND LIBERAL-GIVING. 

In the present age, amongst the American Church- 
es, there is no deficiency more obvious than that 
which relates to systematic and reliable contribution 
for the purposes of Christian benevolence. It may 
be safely said that there has been no period of our 
religious history when fields so wide and " white to 
the harvest," were thrown open to us ; no period 
when to us, as a people, the voices of benighted mil- 
lions cried so imploringly for the gospel of salvation. 
Burmah, Siam, Hindostan, and China call to us ; 
tribes of the Asiatic mountains, living in compar- 
ative seclusion, the forlorn and melancholy children 
of our own continent, and the struggling churches of 
continental Europe, " persecuted but not forsaken, 
cast down but not destroyed," appeal to us for help. 
Multitudes of those who in other times have gone to 
their graves professing and believing the principles 
in which we glory, who suffered bitter oppression 
throughout their course of life for conscience sake, 
who were driven by the blasts of persecution over 
stormy seas, faithful men and women in whose 
breasts the true martyr-spirit glowed as a quenchless 
fire, longed to see this day, in which the churches of 
a '' common faith," living in a land of freedom, not 



336 Christianity and Liberal-giving. 

only enjoy their own rights and privileges without 
stint or fear, but behold on every side " an open 
door/^ a widening field, with liberty to labor as far 
as " in them lieth '^ for the cause of Christ, Truth, 
and Humanity. Truly, " many righteous men have 
desired to see those things which we see, and have 
not seen them f but, although the blessings that 
were denied to them have been lavished on us, bow 
little do we achieve in view of what " the signs of 
the times," and the wants of the world demand ! 
How few are the laborers ! The thinkers, the plan- 
ners, the minds of projective forecast, equal to the 
emergency, the reliable and constant contributors 
according to their ability — how^ few in comparison 
with the numbers that our statistical reports exhibit ! 
How astounding, how humbling is the truth, that if 
each of our communicants in the United States were 
accustomed to give regularly but one cent a week, 
the aggregate amount would be thrice as great as 
that which our present plan of operations for evan- 
gelizing the world would consume ! Surely, amidst 
all the gratifying proofs of progress that we may 
show, there is scope for great improvement in regard 
to the grace of liberal-giving ; so that the Apostle 
of the Gentiles might say to us as fitly as he did to 
the ancient Corinthians, " Therefore as ye abound in 
every thing, in faith, and utterance, and knowledge, 
and all diligence see that ye abound in this grace 
also." 

With the desire of doing something to awaken 
more general and earnest thought in this line of di- 
rection, we solicit your attention. Friends and Read- 



Christianity and Liberal-giving. 337 

ers, to some suggestions called forth by the two-fold 
aspect which this subject presents. They relate di- 
rectly — 

I. To several defects pertaining to the common 
modes of benevolent contribution : — 

II. To the grounds of our belief that there may 
be found " a more excellent way.'' 

First of all then, we observe that one deficiency 
in the benevolence of our times is this : it moves too 
much by fitful impulses rather than by the forecast 
of intelligence and the guidance of Christian prin- 
ciple. There is too much of the power of set occa- 
sion, of art, and of eloquent appeal requisite to incite 
us to do what is easily practicable, and what the 
hand of God's providence beckons us to attempt. 
This kind of power is but little needed where intel- 
ligence and sound principle exert their proper sway. 
Who ever thinks of using the arts of argument and 
persuasion to induce an affectionate parent to clothe 
his children, or to provide for his household ? But 
from the cause of Christ, which enfolds all the inter- 
ests of humanity within itself, Christians can with- 
hold their needed gifts without pain, without a self- 
reproving thought. And when they give, too often 
is the donation thrown into the treasury by a fitful 
impulse of generosity like that with which, the un- 
thinking sailor, when flush in funds, flings what he 
may have in his pocket at the feet of the first ap- 
plicant, without thoughtful regard to the merits of 
the case, or the wants of others. This play of feel- 
ing in the human bosom is amiable, but it is, never- 
theless, a weakness ; it is ineffective of real good, on 



338 Christianity and Liberal-giving. 

the wliole, because it needs to be directed by the 
forecast of heartfelt benevolence. These wayward 
impulses of our common humanity must needs be 
brought under the discipline of that vital Chris- 
tianity, which, dwelling in the soul as* a directing 
power, renders it wise to do good, causes its " love 
to abound more and more in knowledge and in 
all judgment," and thus, imparting an aptness to 
^^ gather up the fragments that nothing be lost," 
makes everything both small and great, subordinate 
to the comprehensive aims of our Master's service. 

2. Another deficiency in the benevolence of our 
times is found in the disproportion of what is given, 
on the whole, to the ability of the giver. When an 
object of benevolence is brought into view, it is too 
often the case that the contributor debates within 
himself as a main question — " how much do people 
expect from me V^ What sum will suffice to let me 
off respectably ? Or, he asks, perhaps, how much 
his neighbor, whose judgment he respects, will con- 
tribute to this object. Now, this may, indeed, be all 
well enough when the particular object is but of 
small importance, when it is strange or novel, or 
when its relative claims remain doubtful. But our 
remarks have no special bearing on that class of 
cases ; they relate to those grand operations of be- 
nevolence which are well understood, which are ac- 
knowledged to be of tried and enduring worth, and 
which open ample scope to the spirit of enterprise. 
These great objects which embrace as their one aim 
the evangelization of the world, embody and express 
in palpable form the cause of Christ amongst men ; 



Christianity and Liberal-giving. 339 

and when they come to us, it is He that speaks ; He 
calls upon us as his stewards for the payment of 
what we owe to Him ; and then it becomes us as his 
servants to appeal with all sincerity to Him who 
knows all our substance, our relations, and our du- 
ties in the inquiry, *' Lord what wilt thou have me 
to do ? " In these cases, we may be assured, He 
appeals to us as really by his Providence as He ap- 
pealed to Philip by his living voice when, in view 
of the famishing multitudes around them, He asked, 
" Whence shall we buy bread that these may eat T^ 
" This he said to prove him ;'' the question was de- 
signed for the trial of the disciple's heart. 

3. Another deficiency in the benevolence of the 
times is this : that even in the regular elBforts of 
churches that may be supposed to contribute from 
the influence of sound principle, there is so rarely 
seen any system of action embracing within its scope 
the rich and the poor, the young and the old, so as 
to develop in a healthful manner the affections and 
energies of all. In the promotion of any great en- 
terprise, whether it be civil, military, or commercial, 
requiring, from year to year the employment of men 
and money, a well-concerted system of action is essen- 
tial to success. It is equally so within the sphere of 
religion. Yet, in regard to this truth there has been 
a great want of clear and definite conviction ; and 
many well-meaning persons have cherished too cor- 
dially the sentiment expressed by one who said, 
" What I give, I give by myself, and not in connec- 
tion with others ; I give when I please, as I please, 
and let not my left hand " know what my right hand 



340 Christianity and Liberal-giving. 

doeth/' Although he was a good man who said 
this, and although he quoted scripture to support his 
position, he was unaware how far from the mark his 
quotation fell. For, that precept on secret giving, 
from the sermon oh the Mount, relates only to alms 
bestowed on the poor, which, from regard to the 
feeling proper to both parties, the giver and the re- 
ceiver, ought to be private ; but in bestowing these, 
the Pharisees, whom Christ was censuring, made a 
conspicuous and vaunting show. Great public en- 
terprises, however, requiring a combination of agen- 
cies by the union of many minds, hearts, and hands, 
must be promoted by concerted elBforts and in a sys- 
tematic manner, or they can never be effectually 
achieved. Thus we see that the constructive mind 
of Paul placed within the scope of one plan of be- 
nevolent action all the churches of Macedonia and 
Achaia, held up the example of those who were more 
forward to animate those who were tardy, and urged 
them all forward in a noble career of benevolence 
which, the lights of history furnish reason to believe, 
commanded the respect and admiration of the world. 
The historical pen of Gibbon, though employed 
against Christianity, has made the benevolent doings 
of the primitive Christians to loom up in a form of 
moral grandeur, when it places their ample liberality 
among the leading causes of the world-wide triumphs 
of their faith. 

II. Having thus considered several defects in the 
prevailing modes of benevolent action, it may be 
well now to inquire whether the Scriptures furnish 
any intimations of a better way. 



Christianity and Liberal-giving. 341 

In PauUs first epistle to the Corinthian Church, 
we find the following direction touching pecuniary 
contribution : — (1 Cor. xvi. 2.) — '* Upon the first day 
of the week let every one of you lay by him in store 
as God hath prospered him, that there may be no 
gatherings when I come.'^ The Apostle mentions 
that he had given the same order to the churches of 
Galatia, a province distant from Corinth in the 
Eastern part of Asia Minor. We see, therefore, 
that the method spoken of was not of merely local 
origin, or of very limited application. At that time 
there was a great emergency to be met amongst the 
churches of Judea, on account tf the prevailing dis- 
tress. Paul desired Corinth to do her share of ser- 
vice systematically, to do it from principle and in a 
quiet manner, so that he should not be disturbed in 
the process of his work by an extraordinary effort 
to raise a large amount of money after his arrival. 
Now, if that church had been affected by the impul- 
sive spirit of our age, and by our modern notions of 
managing such matters, involving periodical collec- 
tions during the visits and appeals of special agents, 
they might not have been disposed to welcome this 
suggestion. They might have been heard, perhaps, 
deliberating amongst themselves somewhat to this 
intent : " Is it expedient now to promote the work 
of contribution ? By no means. After PauFs ar- 
rival, surely, will be the very time to carry forward 
our collections with success ; for, his presence, his 
eloquence, and his apostolic authority will have a 
great effect. Then we shall be all excited ; the 
people will be glad to see him, and then it will be 



342 Christianity and Liberal-giving. 

easy to open their purses and accomplish the whole 
work at once. Men are never so ready to give freely 
as when they are gratified ; and, when Paul comes 
to preach to us, we shall all be highly delighted, 
and shall be just in the mood for doing generously.^' 
Such a conclusion would, doubtless, have made a fit 
preamble to a '^ resolution, '' asserting the wisdom 
and expediency of deferring the collections until af- 
ter Paul's arrival in Corinth. But is it probable 
think you, that the apostle would have been pleased 
with such compliments on his eloquence and his 
power of moving men? Par from it. He would 
have said again to t^em, " I spake by occasion of the 
forwardness of others, and to prove tiie sincerity of 
your love ; for it was expedient for you who have 
begun before, not only to do, but to have been for- 
ward a year ago." 

This direction of Paul to the primitive churches 
involves several important principles. 

(1.) It implies that Christian benevolence should 
be conducted according to a system, and not be left 
to the drift of accident, or the excitement of special 
occasions. 

(2.) That in every Christian church, such a sys- 
tem should be comprehensive and pervasive — " Let 
every one of you lay by him in store.'' Let the rich 
and the poor meet together at the altar of Christ 
with their offerings of grateful love. 

(3.) That the designation should be made at stated 
times — frequently — as often as once a week. On 
the first day of the week, when we shall have paused 
in our career of worldly occupation, while we hail 



Christianity and Liberal-giving. 343 

with joy the light of the resurrection-day, and cel- 
ebrate the mighty work of man^s redemption, then 
are we called upon to lay a tax upon our worldly 
income or expenditure, in order that we may present 
an acceptable offering unto the Lord. 

(4.) This weekly calculation of the amount of our 
religious contributions, should lead us to give to an 
extent commensurate with our power of giving ; that 
is, our power of giving estimated by a liberal heart, 
with reference to all the claims made upon our 
resources, and the relative worth of the objects 
before us. The Scriptural rule is, " Each according 
to his ability,^' " as God hath prospered him ;'' " ac- 
^cording to the ability that God giveth." This regu- 
lar mental exercise, and this practical expression of 
our gratitude, are Heaven's appointed means for the 
education of our minds and hearts, and thus, of our 
preparation for a still nobler sphere of service in a 
future state of being. 

Here we have developed to our view the apostolic 
plan of benevolent effort, simple, equal, reasonable, 
eflScient ; requiring no ingenious appliances to sus- 
tain it in any community, but only that degree of 
love to Christ and his cause which will quicken into 
life our grateful remembrance of him, as often as 
once a week. If we have real love to him, whether 
our resources, as individuals or as churches, be large 
or small, increased by prosperity or stinted by adver- 
sity, that system would be found adequate and self- 
sustaining. 0, how much better are God^s ways 
than man's ; the hints of Scripture, than the volumes 
of man's wisdom ! The primitive Christians believed 



344 Christianity and Liberal-giving. 

this ; hence, how united and how persevering, how 
quiet and how effective they became ! Their plan 
of agency was far-reaching, yet noiseless as the 
morning dew, which moistens the arid clod, or as 
the solar heat, which releases the earth from the 
hoar frost, causes it " to blossom and bud, and fills 
the face of the world with fruit." 

When Paul requested of the Corinthians that 
there might be no gatherings in aid of his own 
special mission to Judea, after his arrival, we can 
easily believe that his feelings would have been 
disturbed by a great show of money-getting. He 
desired that there might be nothing of this con- 
nected with his visit. It was ever his chief aim to 
inculcate principles of action, and, by his appeals, 
to open the fountains of charity in every Christian 
heart, so that the perennial stream might flow forth 
constantly to pour its golden contribution into the 
treasury of the Lord, and thence over the parched 
wastes of desolated humanity, to make those wastes 
to bloom afresh, and turn the wilderness into an 
Eden. 

Observe, too, how the Apostle hallows the work 
of contribution as being in harmony with the design 
of the Lord's day, and with scenes of worship. This 
is worthy of notice ; for, sometimes the complaint 
has been heard that the jingling of money in the 
sanctuary, interferes with the spirit of devotion. 
Aye, doubtless it does so when weekly collections 
are thus made for purposes somewhat secular,, for 
the current expenses of a congregation, for the sala- 
ries of a minister or a sexton, for fuel, for oil, or for 



Christianity and Liberal-giving. 345 

gas, or for repairs of the house ; when what are 
called ^' penny collections '^ are gathered from pew 
to pew as a matter of custom or dull routine, with- 
out any grand and noble object of action being pro- 
posed to interest the mind, to arouse the conscience^ 
or move the hearths best affections. This sort of 
Sunday-collection has done much to bring the whole 
subject of contribution into dishonor. Calling upon 
us to give, without thought or care, what we may 
happen to have with us, for we know not what, or 
for objects of little moment, or for secular matters, 
that might be provided for in another way, the prac- 
tice reacts, unhappily, on the moral feelings, and 
petrifies the spring of generous sentiment. But 
where each returning Lord's day makes its appeal 
in the name of Him who consecrated it as a day of 
sacred celebration by a mighty triumph of redeem- 
ing love, calling upon us for a thank offering unto 
him, to be laid on his altar, for his use, to promote 
the extension of his kingdom on the earth ; in this, 
surely, there is something that stirs the finest sensi- 
bilities of the soul, educates our habits of thought 
into harmony with the true aim of life, renders our 
spontaneous gifts acts of worship, elicits no feeling 
that chills the spirit of devotion, no sound that jars 
against its chimes. 

This apostolic plan of benevolence is worthy of 
Christianity. It accomplishes much, and is distin- 
guished by its simplicity. Is it not for the want of 
just this simplicity that the liberality of many 
churches falls so far short of its proper standard ? 
Do we not depend too much on occasional public 



346 Christianity and Liberal-giving. 

eflforts, on the tact and skill of official agents, on the 
excitement of special objects, to accomplish six or 
seven times a year, what ought to be the work of 
every week ? If the true idea of a church, as to its 
practical character, be that of a congregation of 
faithful persons, united under the law of Christ to 
do his will, then, ought not every man, every woman, 
every child amongst us to be a pledged contributor, 
of course, whether the name of the individual be 
subscribed to a preamble touching this or that par- 
ticular object, or not ? If the well-known, cardinal 
enterprises of benevolence represent Christ's cause 
on earth, then, should we not take them all within 
the scope of our regard, from the distant missionary 
who preaches Christ in the jungles and cities of 
Asia, or on the torrid sands of Africa, to the modest 
tract distributor, who threads the secluded alleys or 
the winding, creaking stair-cases of poverty and 
want, in hut or hovel, to shed a ray of moral sun- 
shine athwart the gloom of our own neighborhood ? 
And, if so, should it not be the study of all of us to 
ascertain how far we can promote them ? 

Bear with us, then, while we add one or two prac- 
tical remarks, in relation to the whole subject. 

1. Since liberal giving for the spread of the Gos- 
pel is the proper, the serious, the life-long business 
of the whole church, let us all resolve to share the 
labors of sustaining an efficient system of benevo- 
lence. A proper system is one which permits and 
invites all to do something, in proportion to their 
means of doing. It is not one which comes now 
and then with fervid appeals to the wealthy — by 



Christianity and Liberal-giving. 347 

implication undervaluing small gifts — aiming, by 
spasmodic efforts, to push forward a subscription to 
the highest possible amount. Such an effort may be 
needful, once in a while, for an enterprise which 
makes its appeal but once in a life-tim^, which, when 
once done is done forever, like the building of a 
Bible house or a university, which stands outside of 
the established circle of objects that represent the 
cause of human evangelization, and which, perhaps, 
is to be commended to the special care of those who 
can contribute by thousands or hundreds, or fifties. 
But a church-system of benevolence should b.e ad- 
justed so as permanently to reach, move, and in- 
terest all alike ; the old and the young, the strong 
and the weak. The youngest and the weakest may 
do something. Is any one of this class disposed to 
ask, '' What can I do V^ You may lay by every 
week some amount ; however small, you may bring 
it as a Sabbath-offering, a tribute of love to the 
Lord's treasury ; by word or example you may 
awaken in the minds of others, brothers, sisters or 
friends, an interest in the same good work, and thus 
you may form a habit of action in youth, which will 
be a germ of luxuriant fruitage in years to come. 
All may do something ; and the Head of the Church 
expects all to do what they can in this service. This 
business of a Christian church is the most noble that 
mortals can undertake. In the eyes of angels, the 
largest mercantile transactions at the Royal Ex- 
change, the Parisian Bourse, or the counting-rooms 
of New York, are of no great importance, compared 
with this. Art, science, trade, all forms of industry 



348 Christianity and Liberal-ghving. 

are invested with moral dignity, just so far as they 
are made subservient to the glorious aims of our 
Lord's commission, which bids us to gain the empire 
of the world for him. 

2. The true secret of successful adaptation in a 
church-system of benevolence lies in providing for 
the reception of regular contributions, on the part 
of all, spontaneously and frequently. For the great 
mass of contributors, in every community, can give 
small sums frequently, better than large sums occa- 
sionally. Many a warm-hearted man or woman, 
artisan or laborer, in one or another department of 
busy life, will have at the end of the week a surplus 
of half a dollar, which can be well spared for the 
purposes of benevolence ; but if there be no call for 
its contribution, this person will not be apt to have 
double that amount of surplus at the end of the 
second week ; still less likely to have treble that 
amount of surplus at the end of the third week — and 
so on indefinitely. Then, when the periodical appeal 
is made for large subscriptions, the most of this 
whole aggregate is lost. And thus, too, multitudes, 
gifted with elements of power, grow up, live and die 
within the precincts of the church, without the least 
feeling of responsibility touching the blessed work 
that Christ has committed to his people, and without 
any fit means of developing their sentiments and 
emotions, into habits of manly and efi'ective action. 
In this respect " the children of this world are wiser 
in their generation than the children of light,'' for 
the Romish church, (so-called,) which is composed 
of nations, and rules empires, is really pushing for- 



Christianity and Liberal-giving. 349 

ward her ambitious projects in our land by means 
of revenues drawn from the regular contributions 
of laboring families. 

And, last of all, though this consideration be not 
the least of all, this lively, pervasive and increasing 
interest of the whole church in a common work, is 
quite essential to its spiritual welfare ; to its com- 
pactness, strength, and efficiency. Yery widely 
throughout the churches of our land, it is a common 
sentiment that the chief business of a church, in 
what are called meetings for business, consists in 
receiving, discipling, dismissing, or excluding mem- 
bers. If nothing of this kind is to be done, the 
church has no business to engross its thoughts. 
And thus the mighty work of spreading the tri- 
umphs of the truth throughout a hostile world, is 
well-nigh overlooked ; it does not actually attract 
the members of the church together in earnest delib- 
eration : it does not task their highest talents ; it 
awakens no forethought ; it kindles no sympathy, 
and therefore fails to unite them by those bonds of 
love which are always created by the spirit of lofty 
and holy enterprise. '' For this cause many are 
sickly among them, and many sleep." This is not 
*' after the manner of God." The first Christian 
church which this world ever saw, composed of 
Gentile converts, was at Antioch, in Syria. The 
first fact recorded in its history, after its peaceful 
establishment, is that of its coining together for the 
purpose of sending forth missionaries to the sur- 
rounding heathen countries. The second fact, is 
that of its coming together to receive a report of 



350 Christianity and Liberal-giving. 

what those missionaries had been doing. Truly, 
that was a body " fitly joined together." The mem- 
bers of that church were united by one noble aim ; 
they loved each other for their works' sake, and the 
voice of joy was in their tabernacle. 

Christian Friends, may we not imitate them ? Do 
we not profess the same religion ? Have Ave not the 
same master? Does not the same work still lie 
before us ? If we tread in their footsteps, and carry 
forward what they begun with a kindred spirit, may 
we not expect the blessing of Heaven in larger mea- 
sure than we have ever yet received it so that the 
world itself shall be constrained to renew the song 
of the ancient prophet, even though, like him, it may 
be loath to utter it — " Surely there is no enchant- 
ment against Jacob, there is no divination against 
Israel ; according to this time it shall be said of 
Jacob and of Israel, What hath God wrought !" 



CHRISTIAN 



UNION. 



CHRISTIAN UNION. 



PHILLIPIANS, III. 16. 



Nevertheless, whereto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, 
let us mind the same thing. 



A REMARKABLE feature of the mind of Paul was 
its enlargedness — a habit of taking wide, noble and 
benevolent views of men and things in the light of 
religion. There was in him a wonderful combina- 
tion of unyielding strictness in regard to the essen- 
tial elements of Christianity, and of comprehensive 
liberality in regard to all that was not of vital 
importance. This was the more wonderful, con- 
sidering his early character. In the Jewish school, 
he had been educated to narrowness. He was a 
Pharisee of the^straitest sect ; in his code of morals, 
charity was no virtue, and he was even ready to 
hurl his anathemas against those who slighted the 
ceremonies which had no better basis than tradition. 
It is so natural for men in their changes of opinion, 
to rush from one extreme to its opposite, that it 
might at first have been justly supposed, that as 
Paul had been a bigoted Jew, he would have made 



354 Christian Union. 

a bigoted Christian. And so indeed he would, had 
the change been chiefly such as many think ; a mere 
change of creed, a belief in a new theological sys- 
tem. But in his case, it was a new spiritual crea- 
tion, which occurs in the case of every man who is 
^' in Christ.'^ The power which enlightened his^ 
mind, enlarged his heart ; the Christianity which 
he received was a religion of love ; its faith wrought 
by love, and the end of its commandment, was charity 
out of a pure heart and faith unfeigned. 

An illustration of this trait of his character is 
found in the precept of the text. At the time in 
which he wrote, Christianity had been widely spread, 
and embraced within its pale men of diverse habits 
and opposing opinions. The Jew was still inclined 
to Judaize, to bring into the church a ritual as punc- 
tilious as that which marked the old economy ; and 
the Gentile was disposed to treat the notions of the 
Jews with as little respect as ever, when they were 
pressed on his conscience as a matter of obligation. 
Thence there was constant danger at the outset, of 
Christians forming new parties, and cherishing to- 
ward each other sectarian antipathies. It is delight- 
ful to see how fitted was the apostle for such an 
emergency. He, truly, magnified his office. Instead 
of entering into the details of disputation, he pro- 
claimed those principles of Christian liberty, which 
were suited to compose existing strife and to guide 
all future ages. Though he possessed the authority 
of an inspired apostle, he did not interfere in the 
dispute by saying who had the most of right and 
truth on his side, the Jew or the Gentile ; but he 



Christian Union. 355 

seemed far more anxious that they should walk in 
love on common ground and cooperate as far as they 
were agreed, than that they should be all of one 
opinion. He desired more to see Christians differ- 
ing in belief, loving each other notwithstanding that 
difference^ than to see them all of the same opinion. 
We have in the text a specimen of his manner of 
exhorting on this subject when he says, " as far as 
we have attained, let us walk by the same rule, let 
us mind the same thing.'^ 
Let us proceed : 

I. To consider more fully the import of this rule. 

II. Its general excellence. 

III. Some of its applications. 

1. All true Christians, however they may differ in 
education or sentiment, have attained to the know- 
ledge of some principles of everlasting worth which 
are common to them. All who have been convinced 
by the law as transgressors, who have heartily turned 
to Christ the atoning Saviour, and led by the Spirit 
of God, have given themselves up to his service, are 
members of the same great spiritual family, and are 
united by bonds which can never be broken. These 
hold to each other a sacred and eternal relationship. 
Thence instead of magnifying their differences, they 
should strengthen their points of agreement, coope- 
rate, on ground that is common, for the good of the 
world, and respecting cordially the liberty of each 
other's conscience, should, as far as possible, be 
helpers of each other's joy. Whereunto they have 
attained, they should walk by the same rule and 
mind the same thing ; that is, should bring their 



356 Christian Union. 

common principles into active exercise and seek 
together the glory of Christ as a common object. 

Now see how the cases of collision which occurred 
under the apostle's ministration, illustrate this rule. 
One subject of dispute in that day, was the propriety 
of eating meats sold in the shambles of idolaters. 
" One believeth he may eat all things, another who 
is weak, eateth herbs.'' Rom. xiv. 2. What is the 
direction ? V. 3. ^' Let not him that eateth, despise 
him that eateth not ; and let not him that eateth not, 
judge him that eateth : for God had received him." 
V, 15. " But if thy brother be grieved with thy 
meat, now walkest thou not charitably. Destroy 
not him with thy meat, for whom Christ died." 
" For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink ; 
but righteousness, and peace and joy in the Holy 
Ghost." '' Let us, therefore, follow after the things 
which make for peace, and things wherewith one 
may edify another." Each Christian is exhorted to 
waive every privilege grievous to his brother, which 
is not a matter of conscience, and touching what is 
a matter of conscience, each is exhorted to respect 
the other'' s liberty^ and to strive " whereto they have 
already attained to walk by the same rule, to mind 
the same thing." 

Another subject of division, was the observance 
of holy days ; which were marked with honor in the 
J'ewish calendar. Rom. xiv. 5. " One man esteem- 
eth one day above another ; another esteemeth every 
day alike. Let every man be fully persuaded in his 
own mind." " He that regardeth the day, regardeth 
it unto the Lord ; and he that regardeth not the day, 



Christian Union. 357 



to the Lord he doth not regard it.'' That is, one 
man's disregard of the day is as much a matter of 
conscience touching his duty to God, as is the other's 
observance of it. ^' But why dost thou judge thy 
brother ? Or why dost thou set at nought thy 
brother ? For we shall all stand before the judg- 
ment seat of Christ." " Let no man, therefore, judge 
you, in meat or in drink, or in respect of an holy 
day', or of the new moon, or of the Sabbath-days, 
which are a shadow of things to come, but the body 
is Christ.'' " And let the peace of God rule in your 
hearts, to which also ye are called in one body ; and 
be ye thankful." 

Now it must be remembered, that in the mind of 
the Jew, the observance of these holy days, was a 
matter of great importance, consecrated as it was by 
ancient custom and the most sacred associations. 
Yet in regard to it the apostle seems far more 
anxious that each should cheerfully allow the other 
his liberty of conscience, that each should respect 
and love the other, notwithstanding a difference of 
practice, than he is to settle the merits of the con- 
troversy. 

One of the most agitating subjects of discussion 
amongst the early Christians, was the right to eat 
meat in an idol's temple. The Jewish Christian 
thought it a species of profanity. The Gentile saw 
no more harm in eating meat there than any where 
else. In such a case, Paul wished the Jew to allow 
his Gentile brother to do as he pleased, as long as 
he did nothing in honour of the idol, and urged the 
Gentile to accommodate himself to the prejudices of 



358 Christian Union. 

his Jewish brother, inasmuch as he could do it with- 
out violating his conscience or without sacrificing 
any real good. Yea, he solemnly charged the Gen- 
tile to forego what might be called his privilege in 
those circumstances, wherein his example might have 
an '^appearance of evir' which would lead others 
astray. In this connection he proclaims that grand, 
comprehensive rule of Christian morality, " whether 
ye eat or drink or whatsoever ye do, do all to the 
glory of Cod ; — Giving none offence, neither to the 
Jews nor to the Gentiles, nor to the church of God. 
Even as I please all men in all things not seeking 
mine own profit but the profit of many, that they 
may be saved.'' 

What a pure, enlarged, heavenly charity is this ! 
How comprehensive, how practical, how salutary ! 
How magnanimous is the spirit of Christianity ! It 
rejoices more in the sight of love and cooperation 
abounding among Christians differing in opinion, 
than it does in the termination of those very differ- 
ences. It declares that true religion does not con- 
sist in uniformity of opinion or observance, but in 
an inward spirit, in faith, love and long suffering — 
in righteousness, peace, joy and true holiness. These 
conform the soul to Christ. These are the springs 
of outward virtue. These enlarge the heart, bind 
together men of every variety of temperament and 
every grade of life, and leading each to overlook 
every thing that is not vital, causes him to hail joy- 
fully the image of Christ wherever it appears, and 
to say to all the members of a common spiritual 
brotherhood, '' whereto we have already attained, 



Christian Union. 359 

let us walk by the same rule, let us mind the same 
thing/' 

Such being the general import of this rule, it may 
be well to direct our attention more particularly to 
its benefits. Consider then, 

II. Its excellence. 

First. It tends to increase the mutual love of Chris- 
tians. It is an obvious truth, that nothing is more 
adapted to foster a warm and reciprocal attachment 
amongst any class of men, than a quick sensibility 
to those interests and objects of pursuit, which are 
common to them. , How often has it been seen, that 
when the natural and worldly sympathies of men 
have become all dormant, some emergency has 
brought them out with a power, which made them 
appear like the development of a new nature. Some- 
times, for instance, when political excitement has 
been high, amidst the clash of party collision, it has 
seemed as if every trace of patriotism, were swept 
from the land. Men engaged in thinking only of 
the points of difference between them, have become 
alienated from each other, and have forgotten that 
there were any ties of brotherhood. But when in 
the course of events, these men have been called to 
act together, for the defence of their country, at 
once, all minor objects are overlooked, all petty 
alienations subside, and the interests of a mean and 
narrow selfishness are swept away before the deep, 
broad, powerful tide of patriotic feeling. 

Now while we see such to be the ng-tural effect of 
a concert of action in political life, there are not 
wanting proofs of something analogous in the reli- 



360 Christian Union. 

gious life. When the storms of persecution have 
swept over a land, how dear to the hearts of all 
Christians, have the bonds of a common Christianity 
become ! How precious that name whereby each is 
called ! How fervent that love which unites all to 
Christ and thence binds each to the other ! And 
whence arises this new development ? Whence but 
from the fact that the contemplation of their points 
of agreement and the acting together on common 
principles will make those principles to appear in 
their real worth and will cause their power to be 
felt ? This striking effect has been seen on all ex- 
traordinary occasions, when Christians have been 
led as far as they had attained to walk by the same 
rule, to mind the same thing. And this, which has 
occurred at some times, would be seen at all times, 
if this blessed rule, were but heartily and habitually 
adopted. A single gleam of such a spirit, whether 
it appear in public or private life, shines by its own 
light, imparts a peculiar beauty to the character, 
and throws an abiding charm around the intercourse 
of Christians. As a pleasing illustration of this, it 
may be proper to mention here, what was once 
stated at a public meeting in England, that " a lady 
who solicited subscriptions for a Missionary Society 
in the town where she resided, called upon a pious 
tradesman who was not a churchman. On entering, 
she said, ' I wait on you. Sir, from the Church Mis- 
sionary Society, because I have undertaken to call 
at every house in my division, but, as I believe you 
are not a Churchman, I cannot presume to calculate 
upon your subscription : and, though we are happy 



Christian Union. 361 

to receive support from any one, I ought not perhaps 
to expect it from you ; and, therefore, having ful- 
filled mj^ engagement by calling, I will now cheer- 
fully take my leave/ ' Stop, madam, ^ said he, ' I 
cannot suffer you to go away thus. It is true,' he 
added, ' we have a Missionary society of our own ; 
but when I consider how long I have lived in this 
place, and how little comparatively has been done 
here in a religious point of view, until the formation 
of your Missionary society, I am truly thankful to 
God for his goodness, -and you shall take the names 
of my wife and daughter, as humble, but cheerful con- 
tributors,' While he yet spake, ^ the springs which 
were in his head,' (as John Bunyan says,) ' did send 
the waters down his cheeks.' 

" The lady, after receiving the subscription of the 
Wesleyan, said, ^ Now, sir, as you have been so kind 
and liberal towards our society, you must allow me 
to give you a testimony of my good will towards 
yours." Accordingly, she insisted upon his accept- 
ing from her own purse, a donation for the Wesleyan 
Missionary society. Truly when a charity so candid 
and reciprocal as this shall pervade the church, divi- 
sions will be comparatively nominal and harmless ; 
*' for as the body without the spirit is dead," so sec- 
tarianism bereft of its selfish spirit is dead also. 

Secondly. Thence we see that the maxim of the 
text, if acted on by all Christians, would increase 
their power of doing good. For all power is increased 
by a habit of action, and in all departments of soci- 
ety the social law is as fixed as any law of nature, 
that combined action concentrates and multiplies 



362 Christian Union. 

energy. If we connect with this the interesting 
thought that among true Christians their points of 
agreement are of more importance than their points 
of difference, we cannot but rejoice to think of the 
amount of power which the friends of Christ might 
bring to bear in behalf of a perishing world. Nor 
can we fail to deplore the amount of power which is 
wasted, while Christians wait for a unanimity of 
opinion on all disputed points, ere they heartily 
cooperate in behalf of principles which are clear, 
fixed and of supreme importance. Oh ! that the 
children of light were as wise in their generation as 
the children of this world ! Oh ! that the sacra- 
mental host of God would rally round the ground 
which is common, maintain it, beautify it, and cheer 
each other on to wider conquests ! Then would Zioii 
pat on her strength and appear in her glory. Then 
would she gain the world and a spirit would be 
kindled which would consume all causes of dissen- 
sion and melt and blend all hearts in a holy, happy 
union. 

Thirdly. This leads me to observe that the rule 
suggested in the text is the very best means to 
induce among all Christians a general unity of opinion 
and practice. There is certainly at the present day 
a more deep and fervent desire among Christians at 
large, for an intimate and visible union, than has 
existed heretofore. This is a happy sign. It appears 
in every quarter. It is seen in the books which 
issue from the press, it is breathed from the lips of 
prayer in the public sanctuary and at the family 
altar. But this event, so devoutly to be wished, is 



Christian Union. 363 

not to be brought about merely by cogent reason- 
ings, by well-set arguments, by earnest discussion, 
though in love, nor merely by prayer itself. All 
these must be connected with an active and hearty 
cooperation of Christians, on ground that is common 
for the general good. The principles which arc 
admitted must have wider scope, a freer operation 
in a clear field, before there can be a much greater 
approach to Christian union. Each must respect 
the other's independence of mind. Each must really 
be jealous for his brother's freedom of conscience, 
and then study how both can do the most for Christ's 
glory, on the ground of common principles, before 
the mists of prejudice can be dispelled, and the 
causes of separation dissolved, and heart be bound 
to heart, in the ties of a real and enduring union. 
Let this but be done, let the maxim of the text thus 
be practised, and candor will take the place of preju- 
dice, and confidence will take the place of suspicion, 
and charity will rule in the room of jealousy, truth 
will be investigated by new lights, with hearts more 
simple and eyes more single, till ere long, one mind 
will be seen approximating to another, seeking the 
same thing, using the same means, and reaching the 
same end, and so, at last, the full glory of the Lord 
will appear in Zion, her watchmen shall all see eye 
to eye, and lift up their voice in perfect harmony. 

Fourthly. The excellence of this maxim may be 
seen if we consider, that in the practice of it, the 
evil of all difference of opinion would be in a great 
degree obviated, because the church would then in- 
fluence the world, by exhibiting a bright example 



*> 



64 Christian Union. 



of the Christian spirit. For certainly there is some- 
thing much more adapted to impress the mind with 
a sense of the reality and power of religion, in see- 
ing Christians of different opinions, loving each 
other and acting together for the glory of God, than 
in seeing a large body distinguished by a perfect 
unity of sentiment, joining in the same worship, and 
in observing the same ecclesiastical rules. Such a 
unity has long been the boast of the Romish church, 
but to what has it amounted ? What moral excel- 
lence was there in it ? What has it done for the 
world ? How has it honored Christianity ? Through- 
out her vast dominion, in the days of her power, 
when none ventured to mutter a word of dissent 
from her decrees, there was unity indeed, but the 
stillness which prevailed was the stillness of moral 
death, the silence of the sepulchre, when the spirit 
of true freedom and of real Christianity had expired 
together. And even now, if throughout the world, 
all Christians were called by the same name and 
acknowledged the same discipline and observed pre- 
cisely the same order, that unity would be by no 
means so impressive and effective, as the unity of 
the spirit kept in the bonds of peace,- and manifested 
in a hearty cooperation for the spread of truth, the 
progress of society, the honor of religion, and the 
salvation of the world. In such a union as this the 
world itself sees a moral glory, feels its power, is 
forced to pay it homage, and to say, '' it is of God." 
In this, the spirit of Christianity is revealed, and 
Christianity is proved to be the religion of love. 
Its subjects feel within them the working of a kin- 



Christian Union. 365 

dred spirit, and the strengthening of common bonds, 
love each other more and more, and so exalt Christ 
as to draw all men to him. Then is seen on earth 
the blessing Jesus sought, when he prayed for his 
disciples, that they all might be one, " as thou 
Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may 
be one in us ; that the world may believe that thou 
hast sent me." 

III. Such being the excellence of this rule, let us 
now proceed to consider some of its applications. 

First. It applies to the spiritual fellowship of 
Christians. All true Christians have attained to 
the knowledge of some truths which are of eternal 
worth, and which form the ground of an everlasting 
fellowship. All such have learned to prize Chris- 
tianity as the religion of sinners. They have all 
been convinced of sin by the law, felt and confessed 
their just condemnation, turned from sin with godly 
sorrow, trusted in the atoning merits of an Almighty 
Saviour, and feeling their dependence on the Holy 
Spirit, have panted for his sanctifying influences. 
All such, wherever they may be, whatever name 
they may bear, should love each other with pure 
hearts fervently. No Christian should fail to cher- 
ish and acknowledge a cordial fellowship towards 
any member of Christ^s family, on account of the 
ignorance, or prejudice, or pride, or any infirmity 
which may mar or deform the image of the Saviour, 
in one whom he must still regard as a brother. He 
should love him, m spite of these. These will all pass 
away, if the elements of Christian character are 
there, and that soul will shine in celestial purity on 



366 Christian Union. 

high. Each, therefore, should seek to niake the most 
of the other here, to increase his purity and his use- 
fulness, and to cause all that he has, to redound to 
the glory of God. Such is the natural tendency of 
Christian principles when their operation is left un- 
embarrassed. It may be easy for men to raise nice 
questions on articles of belief, ecclesiastical councils 
may comprise their creed in two points, in five, or 
thirty-nine, and say that to receive them all is ne- 
cessary to church fellowship ; yet after all it will be 
found that those who as lost sinners, have fled to 
Christ as a divine and atoning Saviour, and through 
the spirit of peace, are seeking to live to his glory, 
will recognize in each other kindred elements, " the 
unction from the Holy one,^' which quickens and en- 
lightens, will feel that this is true religion ; and 
though unlearned in every thing except the Bible, 
will discern here the impress of evangelical Chris- 
tianity. With the truth of this, I was once deeply 
impressed when on a visit to Switzerland, I happened 
one day to be in company with one of the oldest 
ministers of that beautiful country. It was on a 
Saturday morning. He was sitting in a summer 
house surrounded with trees and flowers, and sing- 
ing birds, preparifig a sermon for the Sabbath. As 
the old man rose to bid me welcome, his benignant 
features, his white locks hanging around his should- 
ers, his gentle expressions awakened in my heart 
deep feelings of reverence and esteem. Very soon 
he made some inquiries respecting the state of theo- 
logical opinion in America, and expressed his dis- 
satisfaction with some views touching the mode of 



Christian Union. 367 

preaching the gospel, which he perceived me to fa- 
vor. Ere long he asked, " with what church are you 
connected ? '' I replied that I was pastor of a Bap- 
tist church. With quick emotion and frank expres- 
sion, he made known to me his dislike of the doc- 
trine which excluded infants from the rite of bap- 
tism. To this I said, Sir, I doubt not that you re- 
ject that doctrine for the same reason which leads 
me to embrace it ; that is, what seems to be the will 
of Christ, so that there, we are one ! That remark 
touched a chord in the old man's bosom, which vi- 
brated in unison with its spirit, and to it he cor- 
dially responded. After an hour of animated theo- 
logical discussion, I rose to leave him. Accompany- 
ing me to his garden gate, he said, " My young 
friend, I think you are cherishing some errors, but 
you are a child of God's covenant, I trust ; a mem- 
ber of the Saviour's family." Then presenting to 
me the token of friendship which prevails in many 
parts of Europe, as well as in Eastern lands, the 
salutation with a kiss, he lifted up his hands, invok- 
ed on me the blessing of Heaven, a safe return to 
my native land — and so, bade me "' farewdV How 
could I help feeling as I left him, that it was better 
for us to differ as we did in th^logical sentiment, 
and yet cherish this union of soul, than it would be 
to agree on every point of doctrine and church or- 
der, with less of that spiritual fellowship which was 
the object of the Saviour's prayer, and which consti- 
tutes the bliss of heaven ! What is the chaff to the 
wheat ? saith the Lord. 

Secondly. This rule applies to the ecclesiastical 



868 Christian Union. 

fellowship of Christians. It were indeed devoutly 
to be wished, that our spiritual and ecclesiastical 
fellowship were commensurate ; that all who are 
members of Christ^s spiritual family, could unite in 
one visible church. But in the present imperfect 
state of human nature, this seems to be impossible. 
Prom age to age, true Christians have differed not 
so much about the doctrines of the church as its con- 
stitution. Some have regarded the church as a na- 
tional institution, rightfully embracing all who were 
born within a certain political boundary, who were 
thus committed to her charge to be trained up for 
heaven. Others have regarded the church as em- 
bracing the children of believing parents, who have 
been dedicated at her altar. Some regard the church 
visible as being destitute of outward rites. Others 
regard the church as being destitute of a regular 
ministry. Some consider the church as consisting 
essentially of a Christian priesthood empowered to 
administer ordinances, and transmitted by virtue of 
successive ordinations from the apostolic age on- 
ward till now. Others view the church as consist- 
ing simply of an association of believers, combined on 
the ground of a common faith professed by a volun- 
tary baptism, in«the name of Christ. Of course 
these different views involve different requisitions 
for membership in a Christian church. One church, 
therefore, will look upon another as not properly 
constituted. Now, the Christian rule demands, that 
for such difference, no one judge his brother, or exile 
him from his spiritual communion, but that he res- 
pect his liberty, and love him for his conscientious 



Christian Union. 369 

regard to what he deems the will of his Lord. Par 
more should I rejoice, to see a man striving to keep 
his conscience void of offence toward God, than that 
he should strive to agree with me in every opinion. 
If my ministering brother believe that ordination by 
the hand of a diocesan bishop, is necessary to qualify 
a man to preach the gospel, he of course ought to 
submit to it, nor ought I to charge him with aught 
uncharitable, if he cannot invite me to his pulpit, 
but rather to honor him for his consistency. If on 
the other hand, I regard immersion in Christ's name 
on a profession of faith, as essential to church mem- 
bership, and the outward communion, no one should 
think it at all uncharitable, if in those relations, I 
should unite with only those who have met the as- 
signed conditions. Each should ask, " what is truth," 
should study Christ's will himself, and do it from 
the heart ; and urging the same duty on his Chris- 
tian brother, leave him to follow out the convictions 
of his own mind, resolving still, that as far as we 
have attained, we will walk by the same rule, and 
mind the same thing. Oh ! what a beautiful scene 
would the whole garden of the Lord present, if such 
a heartfelt, generous charity prevailed ! Then, how 
comparatively insignificant the evil of a difference 
of opinion ! How happily adapted, rather to en- 
large our hearts, to try the reality of our love, and 
to show " what manner of spirit we are of." 

Thirdly. This rule applies to the efforts of Chris- 
tians, in the field of benevolent enterprize. He who 
looks upon the world with a Christian's eye, knows 
that this field is large enough to give full scope to 



370 Christian Union. 



all the power that can be enlisted on the side of 
righteousness. His spirit sometimes faints in view 
of its vast extent, of the amount of ignorance to be 
enlightened, of suffering to be relieved, of vice to be 
exterminated, of subtile wisdom to be baffled, the 
number of souls to be converted, and of improve- 
ments to be made in the progress of society. Now 
it will unavoidably happen, that in regard to the 
means to be used for doing all this, in regard to the 
right and expediency of some measures, there will 
be a difference of opinion. Each takes strong views 
of the case, in its various aspects. But, then, each 
is too prone to feel that he sees the whole, that he 
knows what is best, that wisdom is with him, that 
he lives exactly under the meridian blaze of truth, 
and to denounce those who do not see the path to 
be pursued in just the same line of light, as pitiably 
or criminally blind. Thence each in his narrowness, 
is too prone to link himself to some favorite object 
and favorite means of attaining it, to cast out all 
others from the sphere of his sympathy, and to disso- 
ciate himself from those who cannot work for his one 
object, in his one way. But this is not the manner 
of God ; this is not according to the mind of Christ. 
This contravenes the maxim of the text. That 
would lead us, if we cannot cooperate with a Chris- 
tian brother in all things, to unite with him in doing 
some ; if not in many, in a few ; if not in two, we 
should do it in one. He may seem to be bigoted, 
prejudiced, or ill-informed ; but then judge him not, 
abandon him not ; the way to enlarge his mind is to 
give play to the kindly feeling which he does pos- 



Christian Union. 371 

sess, and aid him to act out even in a narrow sphere, 
that one principle which he does avow, in unison 
with you. He may cherish some errors of judgment, 
and thence of practice which you deeply deplore — 
he may be blind to some truths, which seem to you 
the clearest of all — he may look coldly on some 
enterprize, which you regard as of the highest mo- 
ment — yea more, he may, quite unconscious of wrong, 
or submitting, as he thinks, to the hard law of his 
condition, hold your brother in involuntary servi- 
tude ; yet unless the circumstances of his case are 
such as to constrain you to say in the spirit of 
charity, " this man knoweth not Christ, and the love 
of the Father is not in him,^' far, far be it from you, 
to deny the sacred relation which you hold to him, to 

" Snatch from God's hand the balance and the rod," 

and doom him to a place without the pale of Chris- 
tian fellowship. If he be still in spirit a brother, 
own and honor him as such. If he conform to the 
constitutional laws of the outward church, acknow- 
ledge his standing there. Oh ! turn not away from 
him, but ask how can I augment his usefulness and 
make what there is of the Christian in him, most 
available for Christ. So will your zeal prove itself 
to be not a spark struck from a heart of stone by 
the collision of outward events, kindling strife and 
setting on fire the course of nature, but a pure and 
heavenly flame, shining with a constant lustre, and 
diffusing a genial light and heat throughout the 
whole territory of Zion. 



CHRISTIANITY 



AND 



SLAVERY 



CflRISTIANITY AND SLAVERY. 



INTRODUCTION. • 



SECTION I. 
THE MAIN QUESTION. 

SECTION II. 
DR. FULLER'S ARGUMENT. 

SECTION III. 
DR. WAYLAND'S REPLY. 

SECTION IV. 
THE CARDINAL MISTAKE. 

SECTION V. 

THE EXTENT and the ABOLITION OF ROMAN 
SLAVERY AMONG CHRISTIANS. 

SECTION VI. 

THE EPISTLES OF PAUL CONFIRMATORY 
OF OUR POSITION. 

SECTION VII. 
RESPONSIBILITY of AMERICAN CHRISTIANS. 



CHRISTIANITY AND SLAVERY. 



Domestic Slavery, considered as a Scriptural Institution. In a 
Correspondence between the Rev. Richard Fuller, D.D., of 
Beaufort, S. C, and the Rev. Francis Wa-^land, D.D., of Provi- 
dence, R. I. New York: Lewis Colby. Boston: Gould, Ken 
dall & Lincoln. 

We have before us a remarkable book. In the 
lapse of ages, it will probably be regarded as an 
instructive fact in the history of Christian civiliza- 
tion, that in the nineteenth century, in the Republic 
of North America, — famed through the world as the 
asylum of the oppressed and the home of liberty, — 
two Christian ministers, distinguished for piety and 
learning, united in the common work of sending the 
gospel to the Pagan nations, should have felt them- 
selves called upon to engage in an earnest discussion 
of the question, Whether Christianity sanctions 
slavery ; or whether the continuance of that rela- 
tion between master and slave, which involves the 
acknowledgment of a right on the part of one man 
to hold the body and mind of another man as pro- 
perty, is compatible with the principles of Christi- 
anity, — with the letter or the spirit of its law ? Nor 



376 Christianity and Slavery. 

will the extraordinary character of this event be at 
all diminished by the consideration, that both of the 
disputants belonged to the denomination of Baptists, 
who had been often known in the world as the advo- 
cates of religious liberty, — asserters of the inaliena- 
ble rights of the human soul ; who, in the darkest 
ages of Romish tyranny, declared with a martyr- 
spirit, before kings and magistrates, that one funda- 
mental doctrine of the new dispensation, " that con- 
science should be free, and all men be permitted to 
worship God as they are persuaded that he requires-/' 
and who, in different centuries, have been the perse- 
cuted champions of the great truth, that the Bible 
alone is the binding rule of religious faith, — that to 
its possession every man has a right, as by it every 
man will be judged. 

Yet the volume before us furnishes proof that such 
a fact has occurred ; that, after all that has been 
written, even by avowed infidels, in praise of Chris- 
tianity, for its effects on the social condition of man; 
after all that has been done to elevate the poor and 
the oppressed ; after all that it has taught respecting 
the common origin and the common redemption of 
the race ; after all the prophecies which it has held 
forth, through many centuries, touching the design 
of God that mankind shall form a common brother- 
hood ; after all the evidence which theologians have 
urged in proof of its being a divine revelation, drawn 
from its influence on the abolition of slavery, — it is 
still boldly asserted by a Christian minister, that the 
essential principles of the slave-system itself Christi- 
anity does not reprobate, but that a man may claim 



Christianity and Slavery. 377 

to be by right the sovereign lord and owner of his 
fellow-man, and yet to be his brother in Christ, and 
faithful in the discharge of all the duties which are 
enjoined by " the new commandment.'^ Such is the 
position of Dr. Puller ; a position which we aver to 
be built on the sand, to have no foundation in the 
teachings of the New Testament ; a position such, 
that, if it were true, would show that the *' old com- 
mandment'' of Judaism, which abolished slavery, 
was better than the new commandment of Christi- 
anity, which allows it ; would show that Christianity 
was not fit to win its way through all the tribes of 
men, as a universal religion ; would show, in spite 
of all its pretensions to miraculous evidence, that as 
yet the Messiah of ancient prophecy, the Messiah 
of man, the Deliverer of the oppressed, the Desire of 
nations, the preacher of " liberty to the captive," has 
not come ; and that, with the Jew, we must take our 
place of lowly waiting for the " Consolation of 
Israel," and the Promised seed in whom " all the 
families of the earth " are to be blessed. 

Eloquent as is Dr. Puller in argument and appeal, 
fervent as is the religious spirit which he breathes, 
earnest though he be as a preacher of pardon to the 
sinner, yet, by advocating such a doctrine of slavery 
as an element of Christianity^ he has done greater 
disservice to the cause of religion and humanity, 
than could possibly be achieved by all the traffickers 
of human flesh whom the laws of Christian nations 
now condemn as public enemies of their race. We 
say this in sorrow, not in anger ; for to express one's 
deep, calm, solemn conviction of a terrible truth, is 



378 Christianity and Slavery. 



not at war with the law of kindness. The actual 
dealers of slaves, of whom we speak, avow their pro- 
fession to be that of rapacity ; their motive to be 
the love of gain ; and it is impossible for them to 
corrupt public sentiment, as may the Christian 
teacher. They commit a great sin ; but to misrep- 
resent Christianity on this subject is to take away 
the remedy for sin. They bring thousands of their 
fellow-creatures into bondage ; but to make men 
believe that Christianity sanctions a system of bon- 
dage which thus begins, is to cut the sinew of all the 
moral power in the world which can destroy that 
system. They can affect the opinions of society but 
little, because they are abhorred as the enemies of 
their race ; but the minister of religion is revered as 
the interpreter of the divine will. They can do 
nothing to erect the bulwarks of the law around 
their trade in men, and around the markets whose 
demands they supply ; but he does very much to 
rear a legal defence around a scheme of oppression, 
and to perpetuate a social wrong on earth, " which 
hell itself might shrink to own.^' What though it 
be said that in him G-od may account it as an error 
of judgment, and not a sin of the heart ? Be it so ; 
but charity to the man must not conciliate us to his 
error. We must still declare it to be an error ; 
and, with the New Testament in our hands, must 
say to the most amiable of men, " Though you, or 
an angel from heaven,'^ preach this doctrine as a 
part of Christ's gospel, we pronounce the sentiment 
to be wicked, inhuman, antichristian, and " accursed. '' 
In speaking thus, we are far from denouncing, 



Christianity and Slavery. 379 

indiscriminately, all those who stand in the legaL 
relation of slave-holders, as unworthy of being re- 
garded as Christian brethren ; for a man may hold 
this relation, in a legal sense, against his own con- 
sent. He may deem himself the victim of misfor- 
tune ; he may feel bound to avail himself of his legal 
powfer, for the protection of his brethren ; and espe- 
cially he may, before God, as a Christian man, abjure 
all right and title to his fellow-men as property. 
Such a man, though nominally master of a thousand 
slaves, is more truly a philanthropist, and more 
worthy the fellowship of the universal church, than 
is the Northern Christian who never saw a slave, 
and still declares that Christianity sanctions slavery. 
The former is a slaveholder in name, but not in 
truth and in spirit ; the latter is called a non-slave- 
holder, but a change of residence would make him 
an owner of men and women, and he is now a slave- 
holder in principle, in feeling, and in guiltiness. 
The author of the Sermon on the Mount assures us, 
that God judges men, not merely according to their 
overt acts, but according to the intents of their 
hearts, — the objects of their approval or abhorrence. 
Hence we have been deeply interested in the 
argument contained in these letters, conducted by a 
leading writer of the South and another of the 
North. Not being of those who would say, " This 
discussion belongs to the realm of abstractions ; it 
is better to let it alone, and to deal only with facts;" 
we deem the discussion itself as a fact of the highest 
moment. For ourselves, we have not been aware, 
till recently, how extensively the opinion defended 



380 Christianity and Slavery. 

by Dr. Fuller prevails among Southern Christians, 
— how far they have departed from the purer doc- 
trines of their fathers. We supposed that, to a 
wider extent than seems now to be the case, they 
had agreed with us in believing that Christianity 
entirely condemns the slave system ; and that in 
proportion as their influence in ths state was increas- 
ing, the day of emancipation was hastening on. We 
had often thought of them, as lacking a proper de- 
gree of zeal in the work ; as being timid and tardy, 
and too subservient to the schemes of worldly poli- 
ticians ; but we had never believed them so gene- 
rally to have embraced a corrupt doctrine, to have 
perverted the high principles of Christianity, and to 
have been pressing into the support of slavery a 
religion which came into the world " to comfort the 
broken-hearted, to lift up those who were bowed 
down, to break every yoke, and let the oppressed 
go free.'' 



SECTION I. 

THE MAIN QUESTION. 

While there are many things in these letters inci- 
dentally thrown out on both sides, which may be 
worthy of notice at some time, we wish now to con- 
sider the main question proposed, and the way in 
which it is treated. 

The main question is. Does Christianity sanction 
slavery ? Dr. Fuller asserts the affirmative in the 
clearest terms. He says : " I find my Bible con- 



ChEISTIANITY AITD SLAVERY. 381 

demning the abuses of slavery, but permitting the 
system itself/' Page 4. 

'* The matter stands thus : the Bible did autho- 
rize some sort of slavery ; if now the abuses admitted 
and deplored by me be essentials of all slavery, then 
the Bible did allow those abuses/' Page 10. 

" Slavery was everywhere a part of the social 
organization of the earth ; and slaves and their 
masters were members together of the churches ; 
and minute instructions are given to each as to 
their duties, without even an insinuation that it was 
the duty of masters to emancipate. Now I ask, 
could this possibly be so, if slavery were a * heinous 
sin ? ' No ! every candid man will answer no !" 
Page 12. 

" I put it to any one whether the precepts to mas- 
ters, enjoining of course their whole duty, and not 
requiring, not exhorting them to emancipate their 
slaves, are not conclusive proof that the apostles did 
not consider (and as a New Testament precept is 
for all ages, that no one is now justified in denounc- 
ing) slave-holding as a sin." Page 194. 



SECTION II. 

DR. fuller's argument. 

From these citations it is evident, that the argu- 
ment of Dr. Fuller, as to the teaching of the New 
Testament, rests on two points : 

1. The fact that the relation of master and slave 



382 Christianity and Slavery. 

was recognized throughout the civilized world, by 
the law of the Roman empire. 

2. The silence of the New Testament, as to the 
duty of dissolving that relation. 

This argument has respect, necessarily, to the slave 
system recognized by the Roman law, which was 
then so extensively supreme, because there is no evi- 
dence that our Saviour or the apostles ever came in 
contact with slavery under the Jewish law. Among 
the people of Palestine, involuntary servitude had 
been brought to an end, hundreds of years before 
the Christian era, by the natural operation of the 
code of Moses. Every slave bought of the heathen 
received the offer of freedom at the end of every 
seventh year, if he were a Jewish proselyte ; and 
whether he were a Jewish proselyte or not, the 
jubilee trumpet sounded forth the decree of liberty 
at the close of every half century. The passage 
quoted by Dr. Fuller, from the xxv. chapter of Le- 
viticus, which forbids the purchase of bondmen from 
any except the heathen and strangers, saying : " Of 
them shall ye buy bondmen and bondmaids, and ye 
shall tafee them as an inheritance for your children 
after you, to inherit them for a possession ; they 
shall be your bondmen forever f^ must be under- 
stood, in consistency with the law of the juTDilee, 
which had been laid down in a preceding part of 
that same chapter,:}: which says : ^* Thou shalt cause 
the trumpet of the jubilee to sound, on the tenth day 
of the seventh month, in the day of atonement shall 

* Verse 46. 



Christianity and Slavery. 383 

ye make the trumpet sound throughout all your 
land ; and ye shall hallow the fiftieth year, and pro- 
claim liberty throughout all the l^nd, unto all the 
INHABITANTS THEREOF > it shall be a jubilee unto 
you : and ye shall return every man unto his posses- 
sion, and every man unto his family.''^ Such was 
.the law of jubilee ; limiting the sales of men, as it 
did the sales of land, whereof it said : " According to 
the multitude of years after the jubilee, thou shalt 
buy of thy neighbor ; according to the multitude of 
years thou shalt increase the price thereof, and 
according to the fewness of years thou shalt diminish 
the price of it :'' when, therefore, another law enacts 
that bondmen shall be purchased of the children of 
the heathen, instead of the children of Israel, it must 
be understood that the purchase is modified by the 
previous law, and that the meaning of the latter 
statute is not the entail of perpetual slavery on any 
class, but simply the confining of the Jews in the 
purchase of servants, always and forever, to the 
children of the heathen. 

If there were any doubt on this point, our inter- 
pretation of the meaning of the law would be con- 
firmed by considering the fact, that the inspired 
prophets treated the continuance of slavery as incon- 
sistent* with the spirit of the Mosaic precepts. In 
saying this, however, we do not mean to intimate 
that they ever had occasion to denounce any kind 
of oppression possessing the character of American 
slavery ; for nothing like that could have existed 

* Verses 9, 10. 



384 Christianity and Slavery. 

a single day in Palestine after the entrance of the 
Israelites. American slavery originated in kid- 
napping men and women from Africa ; but this was 
the only kind of theft which the law of Moses made 
a capital crime. '' He that stealeth a man, and 
selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall 
surely be put to death.'^ (Ex. xxi. 16.) The mun- 
stealer, and the man-seller, and the slaveholder, were 
alike liable to capital punishment. The Mosaic law 
would have always prevented the slavery of the 
United States, and would destroy it instantly now, 
if put in operation. In Palestine, war, debt, pov- 
erty, and voluntary contract, originated, at different 
periods, a servitude which was temporary, the peri- 
odical abolition of which was provided for by law. 
Against this abolition, avarice would naturally re- 
volt, and seek to evade the law for the sake of gain. 
On this point the Prophet Isaiah lifted up his voice 
like a trumpet, instead of treating it as a subject too 
delicate to be mentioned, '' cried aloud and spared 
not,^' saying. " Behold, ye fast for strife, and debate, 
and to smite with the fist of wickedness. Is not this 
the fast that I have chosen ? to loose the bands of 
wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let 
the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yokeV^^ 
If the churches of the South should make proclama- 
tion of a fast like this, who would doubt that it 
involved the emancipation of the slave, and that this 
would be a fast most acceptable to God ? 

Similar in spirit is the language of the Prophet 

* Is. Iviii. 6. 



Christianity and Slavery. 385 

Jeremiah in regard to an effort on the part of the 
covetous rulers of that day, to renew the bondage 
of the Hebrew servants after they had been released. 
See the xxxivth chapter, from the 12th verse onward. 
" Then the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah from 
the Lord, saying, Thus saith the Lord, the God of 
Israel, I made a covenant with your fathers in the 
day that I brought them forth out of the land of 
Egypt, out of the house of bondmen, saying. At the 
end of seven years let ye go every man his brother, 
a Hebrew who hath been sold unto thee ; and when 
he hath served thee six years, thou shalt let him go 
free from thee ; but your fathers hearkened not unto 
me, neither inclined ihcir ear. And ye were now 
turned and had done right in my sight in proclaim- 
ing liberty every man to his neighbor, and ye had 
made a covenant before me in the house which is 
called by my name. But ye turned and polluted my 
name, and caused every man his servant and every 
man his handmaid, whom he had set at liberty at 
their pleasure, to return and brought them into sub- 
jection unto you, to be unto you for servants and 
for handmaids. Therefore thus saith the Lord : Ye 
have not hearkened unto me in proclaiming liberty every 
one to his brother and every man to his neighbor : be- 
hold, Iproclaim a liberty for you, saith the Lord, to 
^ the sword, and to the pestilence, and the famine, and 
I will make you to be removed into all the kingdoms 
of the earth, and I will give the men that have trans- 
gressed my covenant, into the hands of their ene- 
mies, and into the hand of them that seek their life, 
and their dead bodies shall be meat unto the fowls 



386 Christianity and Slavery. 

of heaven and unto the beasts of the earth." And 
thus it was. Jerusalem was plundered and burnt, 
and the Bab\^lonisli captivity made short work with 
the remnants of Jewish slavery, which had resisted 
the spirit of the Mosaic institutions. It is with good 
reason, therefore, that Mr. Barnes, in his work on 
slavery, reaches the conclusion, that '' slavery alto- 
gether ceased in the land of Palestine, '^ and asks, 
'' On what evidence would a man rely to prove that 
slavery existed at all in that land in the time of the 
later prophets, of the Maccabees, or when the Sa- 
viour appeared ? There are abundant proofs that it 
existed in Greece and in Rome ; but what is the evi- 
dence that it existed in Judea ? So far as I have 
been able to ascertain, there are no declarations 
that it did, to be found in the canonical books of the 
Old Testament, or in Josephus. There are no allu- 
sions to laws or customs which ixxyplj that it was 
prevalent. There are no facts, no coins or medals, 
which suppose it." Page 226. 

Corroborative of this position is the fact, that the 
pictures of life and manners contained in the four 
gospels are not in harmony with the supposition of 
the existence of slavery among the Jews. In the 
parable of the prodigal son, which delineates the 
condition of a rich land-holder,- the term to denote 
servants is f^ioOwi^^ from uirfiog^ a reward, and is prop- 
erly rendered, hired servants. This word could not 
be applied to a slave. In the parable of the she}> 
herd, in John x., the word ^^oOonog^ from the same 
root, is used, and is translated ''hireling." The 
same, word is employed for the servants of the fisher- 



Christianity and Slavery. 38T 

men, ':z the beginning of Mark's gospel. There is 
not furnished to us in the New Testament, or any 
contemporary history, the least vestige of a reason 
for believing that our Saviour or th^ apostles ever 
came in contact with slavery in their native country. 

If this be so, there is very good reason why no 
instance can be cited from the gospel, of our Lord's 
rebuking the sin of slavery by giving a command 
enjoining emancipation. He uttered precepts ad- 
verse to all sin and all systems of wrong, but rebuked 
only the specific evils which fell under his notice. 
Hence we read nothing of his condemning the caste 
of India, the sports of Roman gladiators, or the 
vices of the theatre, which were censured even by 
the Pagan moralists themselves. No argument, 
therefore, can be drawn in favor of slavery from the 
lack of any specific rebuke of it in the teaching of 
our Lord. In his day, the Jewish law, instead of 
sanctioning any form of slavery, had already extir- 
pated it from the land. 

Important as is this distinction between the social 
state of Judea and of the Gentile world, between 
the operation of the Jewish and of the Roman law, 
it is altogether overlooked by Dr. Fuller, and it 
does not appear that Dr. Wayland has given to 
this point any particular attention. Its bearing, 
however, on the main question, is direct and mo- 
mentous. 



388 Christianity and Slavery. 

SECTION III. 

DR. WAYLAND's reply. 

We now revert to the position of Dr. Fuller, that 
the Roman law established slavery ; that the scrip- 
ture addresses those who held the relation of master 
and slave, and is silent as to the duty of emancipa- 
tion. To this assumption Dr. Wayland readily con- 
cedes, remarking, '' 1 think it must be evident that 
the precepts of the New Testament furnish no justifi- 
cation of slavery, whether they be considered either 
absolutely, or in relation to the usage of the Roman 
empire at the time of Christ. All that can justly 
be said, seems to me to be this : the New Testament 
contains no precept prohibitory of slavery. This 
must, I think, be granted ; but this is all.'' Page 89. 

The mode in which the new dispensation is sup- 
posed to have borne upon the slave-system is thus 
expressed by Dr. Wayland : " By teaching the mas- 
ter his own accountability ; by instilling into his 
mind the mild and humanizing truths of (Christianity; 
by showing him the folly of sensuality and luxury, 
and the happiness derived from industry, frugality, 
and benevolence, it would prepare him, of his own 
accord, to liberate his slave, and to use all his influ- 
ence toward the abolition of those laws by which 
slavery was maintained. By teaching the slave his 
value and his responsibility as a man, and subjecting 
his passions and appetites to the laws of Christi- 
anity, and thus raising him to his true rank as an 
intellectual and moral being, it would prepare him 



Christianity and Slavery. 389 

for the freedom to which he was entitled, and render 
the liberty which it conferred a blessing to him, as 
well as to the State of which he now, for the first 
time, formed a part.^' Page 100. But this state- 
ment of the case, it appears to us, falls far short of 
the truth, and grants a great deal too much ; it 
involves a concession, which gives to the scriptural 
argument of his opponent an appearance of strength 
which it does not really possess. It is yielding to 
the advocate of slavery an advantage, which, in Dr. 
Fuller's hands, has been made to take on the aspect 
of a triumph. All the world confess that Dr. Way- 
land is an elegant writer and a strong reasoner : 
but the strongest reasoner cannot create truth ; the 
highest result that he can achieve, in a discussion 
like this, is to use effectively the elements of truth 
and power with which reason and revelation have 
furnished him. But after such a concession as this, 
we cannot conceive it to be within the scope of the 
human intellect to impart to the scriptural argument 
against slavery an appearance of great strength. 
To give it force and poignancy, to direct it with 
quickening and commanding energy to the conscience 
of the slaveholder, is impossible. Hence, when Dr. 
Wayland is borne along by the course of his reason- 
ing within the realm of philosophy, or utters in our 
cars the appeals of a Christian philanthropy, our 
hearts answer to him ; we feel the potent spell of 
"thoughts that breathe and words that burn,^' and 
bow ourselves with reverence before the majesty of 
truth. But when he speaks as an interpreter of the 
Bible, on this subject, seeking to give voice to the 



390 Christianity and Slavery. 

teachings of Jesus, he seems to have been " shorn of 
the locks of his strength/^ and to appear before us 
as another man. What he says is well said, but the 
moral effect is weak. The utterance of God's reve- 
lation is feeble and tremulous, compared with the 
clear, bold, and awful propositions of philosophy. 
*^ The mind of Christ," on a practical matter, of the 
deepest interest to humanity, for all time, is made 
obscure J;o the view of an earnest inquirer ; and 
though our Lord is seen to be, in fact, befriending 
the right side, yet he speaks to us " as the scribes,^' 
and not " as one having authority." Who can avoid 
such an impression as this, on perceiving that the 
reply to Dr. Fuller's claim of a scriptural sanction, 
which fills several pages, contains a beautiful expo- 
sition of the true doctrine of expediency ; of the 
difference between opposing a deeply-rooted and 
organized evil, by positive enactments, and by the 
inculcation of a great principle which shall work 
like leaven and gradually subvert it ; of the superior 
wisdom of the latter method ; and then urges a 
defence of the apostles for tolerating slavery as a 
social evil, on the ground that, by this subtle and 
effectual method, they sought to accomplish its 
extinction ? If the Christian doctrine '' hath this 
extent, no more," it will be very slow in the work 
of delivering the American captive ; and our regret, 
therefore, on reading such a statement of it, has been 
increased by perceiving that Mr. Barnes has taken 
substantially the same position. 



Christianity and Slavery. 391 

SECTION IV. 

THE CARDINAL MISTAKE. 

But in all these exhibitions of the scriptural doc- 
trine, we doubt not that there is a cardinal mistake ; 
and that mistake is in defining the relation denoted 
by the words " servant " and " master," dovlog^ and 
Tivqiog or dBonoTTjg^ by the law of Rome instead of 
" the law of Christ." In the community of Chris- 
tians this latter governed all relations. For unto 
whom were these three epistles of Paul and one of 
Peter, which contain the passages referred to, origi- 
nally addressed? To the world at large? No. 
To the subjects of the Roman empire, as such ? No. 
To men, as men and citizens? No. They were 
addressed to little communities of Christians volun- 
tarily united as churches, as those who were " called 
to be saints," " the faithful brethren in Christ ;" to 
those who had '' come out from the world and been 
separate ;" to the regenerated, baptized, and sworn 
subjects of the Messiah's kingdom ; to those who 
had received, as their first lesson, the doctrine that, 
unless they could willingly give up " houses, or 
brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or 
children, or lands " (or servants), '' for their Lord's 
sake, they were not worthy of him ;" to those, and 
those only, who, having been " aliens from the com- 
monwealth of Israel, and strangers from the cove- 
nants of promise," had now been " brought nigh by 
the blood of Christ, who had broken down the 
middle wall of partition between them, and made 



392 Christianity AND Slavery. 

them to sit together in heavenly places." Before 
the epistles were written, all these persons had risen 
above the level of the Roman law to a higher moral 
realm, wherein Christ swayed a sceptre of sove- 
reignty ; unto whom, looking up, they could say, 
with the voice of a common adoration, in response 
to his own announcement to them, Thou alone art 
our master, and all we are brethren. 

A change so great as this, expressed or implied in 
every title, formulary, and peculiar phrase of the 
apostolic epistles, modified at once all the permanent 
relations of life, — held forth to their view a new 
doctrine of right, a new standard by which to judge 
of all the duties pertaining to the connections in 
which they stood, and new motives of action, drawn 
from their communion as subjects of a common Lord, 
and heirs of the same heavenly inheritance. And 
after they had thus " learned Christ, the truth as it 
was in him," — even from the lips of apostles, who 
had preached to them, like Paul on Mars' Hill, in 
the days of their very paganism and unregeneracy, 
that *' God had made of one blood all nations of men 
to dwell upon all the face of the earth,"^ did their 
case now require a letter of special instruction to 
inform them that one of their number had no right 
to hold the other as property, — to exact his toil by 
violence, or to bind him by the terrors of the civil 
law to do service against his own consent, lest 
silence on this subject should be fairly construed 
into a divine toleration of the prevailing heathen 

• Acta xviL 26. 



Christianity and Slavery. 393 

custom? As well might we suppose that special 
instructions would be necessary to direct them not 
to sacrifice their children unto Moloch, or not to 
fight each other as gladiators, or not to obey the 
law of the emperor which commanded all faithful 
citizens to deliver up the Christians to the civil 
authority. Where the law of the empire was at vari- 
ance with the law of Christy who can doubt to which 
they would yield the supremacy ? ^ 



SECTION V. 

THE EXTENT AND THE ABOLITION OF ROMAN SLAVERY. 

That this view of the case is true and just, will 
appear further, if we consider how greatly a know- 
ledge of the law of Christ modified a Christianas 
sense of duty touching the other permanent relations 
of life. It is certainly an error into which many 
have fallen, to discuss this subject as if, by the law 
of Rome, the right of slave-property inhered only in the 
relation indicated hy the words master and servant; 
whereas it pertained as really to the relation indi- 
cated in the New Testament by the words yovevg and 
TEKvov — parent and child. Any school-boy may learn 
the origin of this domestic slavery from the first 
chapter of Goldsmith's History of Rome. It is 
clear, not only from Cicero, in his treatise on the 
laws, but from nearly all the Roman writers, his- 
torians, and poets, that every father had the power 
of life and death over his children — could expose 



894 Christianity and Slavery. 

them to death in infancy ; and not only so, but a 
child was not deemed legitimate, or treated as such, 
unless the father took it formally from the ground, 
and placed it on his bosom. Hence arose the phrase 
*' tollere filium " — to educate. Dr. Adam, in his 
Roman Antiquities, presents the following state- 
ments : '' Even when his children were grown up, 
the father might imprison, scourge, send them bound 
to woj^c in the country, and also put them to death 
by any punishment he pleased, if they deserved it. 
Hence, a father is called a domestic judge or magis- 
trate, by Seneca. A son could acquire no property 
but by his father's consent ; and what he did thus 
acquire was called his peculium, as that of a slave.*^ 
The condition of a son was, in some respects, harder 
than that of a slave. A slave, when sold once, be- 
came free ; but a son, not, unless sold three times. 
The power of the father was suspended when the 
son was promoted to any public ofi&ce, but not extin- 
guished. For it continued, not only during the life 
of the children, but likewise extended to grandchil- 
dren and great-grandchildren. None of them became 
their own masters (sui juris), till the death of their 
father and grandfather. A daughter, by marriage, 
passed from the power of her father under that of 
her husband. ^'t 

In the emancipation of a son from the authority 
of his father, the law prescribed a tedious process, 
which the parties were obliged to observe. In the 

* Livy, II. 41. 

f Roman Antiquities, 50, 51. N. Y. 1826, 



Christianity and Slavery. 395 



presence of witnesses, before the tribunal of a magis- 
trate, the father gave over his son to the purchaser, 
adding these words, ^^ Mancupo tihi hunc filium qui 
mens est.^^ ^' But as, by the principles of the Roman 
law, a son, after being manumitted once and again, 
fell back into the power of his father, the imaginary 
sale was thrice to be repeated, either on the same 
day and before the same witnesses, or on different 
days and before different witnesses ; and then the 
purchaser, instead of manumitting him, which would 
have conferred a jus patronatus on himself, sold him 
back to the natural father, who immediately manu- 
mitted him by the same formalities as a slave. 
Thus the son became his own master. Sui juris 
f actus est, — Livy, VII. 16. In emancipating a daugh- 
ter or grandchildren, the same formalities were 
used, but only once ; they were not thrice re- 
peated, as in emancipating a son. Unica mancipatio 
sufficiehat,^^ 

Tedious as these processes seem, they were rigidly 
observed ; and there was very little abatement of 
them until the reign of Justinian, five centuries after 
Christ. These laws were not a dead letter : the 
incidental allusions to paternal authority indicate 
that the severest executions of them were familiar 
to the minds of the people. Thus Sallust, in his 
history of Cataline's conspiracy (§ 40), says, " A 
Fulvius, son of a senator, was taken on the road, 
brought back to the city, and put to death by his 
father^s orders.'' In his history of the Decline and 
Pall of the Roman Empire, Gibbon remarks, " The 
exclusive, absolute, and perpetual dominion of the 



896 Christianity and Slayery, 

father over his children, is peculiar to the Roman 
jurisprudence, and seems to be coeval with the foun- 
dation of the city. The paternal power was insti- 
tuted or confirmed by Romulus himself ; and, after 
tlie practice of three centuries, it was inscribed on 
the fourth table of the Decemvirs. In the forum, 
the senate, or the camp, the adult son of a Roman 
citizen enjoyed the public and private rights of a 
PERSON : in his father^s house, he was, a mere thing ; 
confounded by the laws with the moveables, the 
cattle, and the slaves, whom the capricious master 
might alienate or destroy without being responsible 
to an earthly tribunal. The. hand which bestowed 
the daily sustenance might resume the voluntary 
gift ; and whatever was acquired by the labor or 
fortune of the son, was immediately lost in the prop- 
erty of the father. At the call of indigence or ava- 
rice, the master of a family could dispose of his chil- 
dren or his slaves. According to his discretion, a 
father might chastise the real or imaginary faults 
of his children by stripes, by imprisonment, by exile, 
by sending them to the country to work in chains 
among the meanest of his servants. The majesty 
of a parent was armed with the power of life and 
death ; and the example of such bloody executions 
which were sometimes praised and never punished, 
may be traced in the annals of Rome beyond the 
times of Pompey and Augustus. Without fear, 
though not without danger of abuse, the Roman 
legislators had reposed an unbounded confidence in 
the sentiments of paternal love ; and the oppression 
was tempered by the assurance, that each generation 



Christianity and Slavery. 397 

must succeed in its turn to the awful dignity of 
parent and master.-^* 

But now, to all this antichristian power conferred 
by the Roman law on the parent, there is not the 
slightest allusion in the epistles. Is the Christian 
father there commanded not to kill his son, as he 
had the legal right to do ? Is he told not to sell 
him ? Is he told not to treat him as a slave ? Is 
he urged to manumit him ? No — nothing of this. 
Let us ask, in the strain of the writers on slavery, 
whence this profound silence on these important 
points of Christian ethics, which must have attracted 
the notice of the apostles ? Is it not clear as the 
light, that this deeply-rooted and organized evil of 
filial slavery arising from Pagan ideas and usages, 
the apostles thought it expedient to tolerate awhile, 
but to inculcate broad principles which should work 
like leaven, gradually extirpate it, and so, in the 
process of time, raise the members of the Christian 
tfamily to that dignity of freedom, that security of 
life, and to that equality of privileges, which were 
conferred by the Jewish law before the coming of 
Messiah ? Such is the apology to be made for the 
apostles in this case, according to the reasonings 
and concessions against which we speak. And is 
this the best defence which we, as Christians, can 
urge for the silence of Paul, and Peter, and John, 
respecting these things ? If so, well may they pray 



* Milman's Gibbon, III. 169. Gibbon quotes the Justinian code, 
saying, ^'ulli enim alii sunt homines, qui talcm in liberos habeant 
potestatem qualem nos habemus* 



398 Christianity and Slavery. 

from their celestial exaltation, Lord, save us from 
our friends — shield thou our apostolic character 
from the imputations of those who are called by thy 
name and acknowledge our authority. 

Thanks be unto God, we' are not reduced to the 
necQssity of acquiescing in any such apologies or 
explanations touching the silence of the apostles on 
the duty of setting captives or children free. These 
evils were not written upon, as practical matters, to 
Christian churches, because, under " the law of 
Christ,^' the son needed no emancipation. When 
that law was received by a family, the son was 
already free. The father's right to govern him, 
during his minority, arose from his duty to guard 
him in years of weakness, and to train him up 
amidst the season of youth, ignorance, and inexpe- 
rience, '' in the way he should go,'' so that, when 
old, he would not depart from it. Instead, there- 
fore, of an apostle's writing to Christian churches 
against such horrible evils as the Roman law entailed ' 
on the relation of father and son, or on the right of 
the son to liberty, or on the duty of emancipation, it 
was enough, simply to say, '* Fathers, provoke not 
your children to wrath, but bring them up in the 
nurture and admonition of the Lord. Children, 
obey your parents in the Lord, for this right. 
Honor thy father and thy mother, which is the first 
command with promise."^ As in the spiritual king- 
dom of Christ, where his religion had sway, Christi- 
anity did not, for a moment, tolerate the filial 

* Ephesians, vi., 1-3 



Christianity and Slavery. 399 

slavery of Rome, so neither did it tolerate her 
servile slavery. The silence of the apostles as to 
emancipation has the very same relation to the one 
kind of servitude as to the other ; and the idea of 
tolerating slavery, as a system, was not entertained 
by Christians in early times, until it appeared in 
company with the most abominable and fatal cor- 
ruptions. 

Not only in the relation of the child to th^e father, 
but also in that of the wife to the husband, did the 
.Roman law establish a power adverse to the precepts 
and the spirit of Christianity. In case of any offence 
whatever, the husband was the pupreme judge, in- 
vested with authority to acquit her or to condemn 
her to death. The law placed her like a slave at 
his feet, and her life hung on his decree. Observe 
the testimony of Dionysius Halicarnassensis on this 
point : — " The law obliged the married women, as 
having no other refuge, to conform themselves en- 
tirely to the temper of their husbands.— But if she 
committed any fault, the injured person was her 
judge, and determined the degree of her punishment. 
In case of adultery, or where it was found she had 
drunk wine (which the Greeks would look upon as 
the least of all crimes), her relations, together with 
her husband, were appointed her judges, who were 
allowed by Romulus to punish both these crimes 
with death. ^'^ This law, of so ancient date, con- 
tinued to be operative under the empire. Tacitus 
mentions a case which occurred at Rome, in the year 

* Dionys. Hal. ii. 25. 



400 Christianity and Slavery. 

57, in the reign of Nero : — '' Pomponia Graecina, a 
woman of illustrious birth, and the wife of Plautius, 
who, on his return from Britain, entered the city 
with the pomp of an ovation, was accused of embrac- 
ing a foreign superstition. The matter was referred 
to the jurisdiction of her husband. Plautius, in con- 
formity to ancient usage^ called together a number 
of her relations, and in their presence sat in judg- 
ment on the conduct of his wife.*^ It has often been 
said, to the honor of Roman chastity, that for more 
than five centuries not an instance of divorce tran- 
spired in Rome ; but it is very evident that this fact 
is to be accounted for, rather from the rigor of the 
law, which bound the destiny of the wife to that of 
her husband, than from the superior virtue of the 
people. There was little occasion for a formal 
divorce where a husband exercised the authority of 
an absolute despot, and where an offending wife had 
no right of appeal from his decision to that of a civil 
tribunal. 

Another feature of the marriage relation, under 
the Roman government, deserves attention here. 
Between a citizen and a foreigner there could be no 
legal marriage,t and the offspring of such a union 
were deemed illegitimate. They were called Hy- 
bridae or Mongrels, and their condition was very 
little better than that of slaves. Livy mentions 
that when the Campanians were forced to go to 
Rome to pay their taxes, they offered a petition that 

* Annal. xiii. 32. 

\ Non erat cum extenio connubium. Senec Ben. iv. 86. 



Christianity and Slavery. 401 

the children, whom they had by Roman wives, might 
be treated as legitimate, and made their lawful heirs.^ 
Indeed, this sort of union was not dignified by the 
name of marriage, any more than was a union 
between slaves ; for in both cases it was stigmatized 
by the same degrading appellation.f Of this firmly 
established law there was no change until the days 
of the Emperor Caracalla. During more than two 
centuries of the Christian era, the children who may 
have sprung from the marriage of a Roman citizen 
and a Jew, or a Greek, were denied the rights and 
honors of a legitimate birth. Paul himself, who 
was a Roman citizen, declared that he had a right 
to ^' lead about a wife '' with him ; but had he or 
any one of the Roman converts been pleased to 
marry a Galatian or a Syrian Christian, the law 
would, as far as concerned civil rights, have placed 
the offspring of such a union on a level with the 
children of a base and criminal connection. 

Now, when we consider that the marriage relation 
lies at the basis of all organized and Christianized 
society, it may be well to inquire how it is, that in 
the epistles of Paul, all of which were addressed to 
persons living under the Roman empire, no care is 
taken to guard the churches against the specific evils 
of this Pagan legislation, which, in the eyes of mul- 
titudes, had been embalmed and hallowed by time ; 



* Livy, xxxviii. 36. 

f Connubium est matrimonium inter cives ; inter servos autem, 
aut inter civinm et peregrinse conditionis hominem, aut servilis, non 
est connttbium scd contubernium, Boeth. in Cic. Top. 4. 



402 Christianity and Slavery. 

had been blended with the very elements of domestic 
and social life ; had been sustained in every age by 
the most illustrious examples, and had interwoven 
itself with the earliest remembrances and associa- 
tions of the civilized world, touching human rights, 
the fitness of things, and the moral order of the uni- 
verse. Strange as it may seem to some, no husband, 
in all the realm of the Osesars, is told that his wife 
had been raised by Christianity above the level of 
her condition under the Roman law. No one is told 
that the domestic despotism, on which Roman society 
was based, was an abomination in the sight of heaven, 
and that it was a contravention of the original law 
of Paradise, which placed tlw man and the woman 
on the ground of a true moral equality. No Roman 
citizen is forbidden to scourge his wife for drinking 
wine ! Even her life is left at his mercy ; and in all 
the New Testament there is not issued a single com- 
mand forbidding a Christian man to kill his wife for 
any fault which might render her, in his judgment, 
worthy of death ! And yet Christianity arose and 
spread in a part of the earth where it found the 
exercise of such power not only common, but where 
that power was embodied in forms of law, enthroned 
in the palace, sustained in the prsetorium, and re- 
vered by public opinion. What now shall we infer 
from the silence of the sacred scripture on these 
points ? The domestic relations themselves are fully 
recognized, moral precepts are given to all who are 
united in them ; but why are these enormous evils, 
which affected so deeply the condition of innumera- 
ble wives and children, left untouched ? Is it that 



Christianity and Slavery. 403 

apostolic Christianity, with a wisdom and prudence 
worthy of all imitation, saw fit to tolerate all these 
things, being content to teach those broad and 
mighty principles which, working gradually at the 
core of society, would achieve its regeneration, after 
a series of ages, and thus, on grounds of expediency, 
withheld from its own disciples the plain truth of 
God with a view to ultimate effect ? Certainly ; 
according to the concessions of those who have con- 
troverted Dr. Fuller, this must be the explanation ; 
but, according to the reasonings of Dr. Fuller him- 
self, Christianity must have intended to sanction the 
legal powers which these relations had so long con- 
ferred, and only to guard against their abuse ! But 
will any man who has become converted to Christi- 
anity by reading the gospels, by listening to Christ^s 
own discourses, and by opening his soul to their 
spirit, remain calmly satisfied with either of these 
positions? By no means. He will recoil equally 
from them both. Indeed, Dr. Fuller, in his reply to 
Dr. Wayland's explanation on this point, writes like 
a man who could not avoid despising the apostles 
themselves if they had held back the truth in that 
way ; and with the most of his earnest remonstrance 
we sympathize to the whole extent of our capacity 
of feeling. With truth and justness does he say, 
*' The apostles took heaven to witness that they had 
kept back nothing f and in addressing, not only 
the people, but the pastors, who were to teach the 
people, and bequeath their ministry to their succes- 
sors, they asserted their purity from the blood of 
all men, because they ^' had not shunned to declare 



404 Christianity and Slavery. 

the whole counsel of God/' Yet they had shunned 
even to hint to masters that they were living in a 
"sin of appalling magnitude," and had kept back 
truth, which, if you are right, was of tremendous 
importance. 

These words must be felt forcibly by those to 
whom they are addressed ; but we thank God that 
the New Tessament presents no such diflSculty as 
that which suggested this appeal on behalf of the 
apostles. The reason why those faithful guides did 
not hint to masters that they were living in " a sin 
of appalling magnitude," was not that slaveholding 
had been sanctified, but simply because these per- 
sons, at the era of their conversion to Christianity, 
had entered into a new spiritual kingdom, and inter- 
preted all their relations and duties by the light of 
its heavenly principles, and not by the light of the 
Roman law or any other human code. Their souls 
had risen superior to the Roman law, as a guide to 
duty or a rule of life, as truly as our Christian con- 
verts in China have risen above the law of "the 
celestial empire." Christianity had not yet become 
corrupted ; its public teachers had not quite yet 
begun to modify its oracles so as to suit a false 
philosophy, to harmonize with the prevailing ideas 
of Roman civilization, and so to turn away its disci- 
ples " from the simplicity that is in Christ." These 
first Christians used words which had a weight of 
meaning in them, when they spoke of their moral 
isolation from society, when they called themselves 
"a peculiar people," the subjects of a "new crea- 
tion," members of " the household of God," " fellow- 



Christianity and Slavery. 405 

citizens of the eoramonwealth of Israel/'"^ and said 
" the world knoweth us not/^ The precepts of 
Christ had taken complete possession of their minds; 
had not only transformed their theology, but their 
moral characters, and their social relations. In 
their view, one sentence of Christ's Sermon on the 
Mount possessed more moral worth and lively effi- 
cacy, than all the lectures of the philosophers, and 
the laws of the twelve tables put together. Before 
they took the vows of their profession, they had 
" counted the cost,'' and were ready to suffer the loss 
of all things. As much as in them lay, they obeyed 
the civil law ; but in their lives they " surpassed the 
laws." So entirely did the word of Christ rule 
them, that they would not allow the civil law to 
arbitrate at all on matters which pertained to their 
own mutual relations. *' Dare any of you," says the 
apostle to some who needed special instruction, — 
*' dare any of you, having a matter against another, 
to go to law before the unjust, and not before the 
saints ?"t Par from availing themselves of any 
power granted by the civil law to retain their 
brethren in bondage, their religion forbade them to 
refer to that law any question respecting their duties 
to each other. 

Now in reading what is written to societies so 
constituted, it is a great error to infer that the 
apostles either sanctioned or tolerated any relation 
between man and man as established by the Roman 
law, because we do not find in their epistles a par- 
ticular denunciation of it. 

* Ephes. ii. passim. f 1 Cor. vi. 1, 



406 Christianity and Slavery. 

In regard to any such relation which may be in 
question, the main thing to be ascertained is this : 
How do the precepts of Christ bear upon it ? These 
the early churches had acknowledged as their guide ; 
to these they had vowed allegiance. Whatever con- 
flicted with these, they had sworn to abandon, in the 
very act of their baptism, by which they had owned 
the sovereignty of the Messiah, in whose kingdom 
there was no place found for those distinctions of 
privilege, which, according to the Roman law, per- 
tained to rank, sex, birth, blood, and nationality : 
^' For,'' says the apostle, " as many of you as have 
been baptized into Christ, have put on Christ ; 
there is neither Jew nor Greek — there is neither 
bond nor free — there is neither male nor female ; 
FOR YE are all one IN Christ Jesus.'^^ That legis- 
lation which had raised one class above another, on 
the ground of those distinctions which are here 
named, primitive Christianity thus heartily re- 
nounced, as being incompatible with the law of 
Christ. 

In order to feel the force of this statement, let any 
one fairly consider what a weight of argument the 
phrase which we have just repeated, carried with it 
to the ear of a primitive Christian. '' The law of 
Christ V' In the apostolic age that was no mere 
abstraction. It was the Law of laws. Its authority 
was imperial. Its decision was ultimate. In ad- 
dressing the church of G-alatia, Paul said, '' Bear ye 
one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of 

* Galatians. iii. 27, 28. 



Christianity and Slavery. 407 

Christ ;'^'^ thus appealing to it, without citing the 
words of any precept, he implied that it was well 
understood. When it was referred to in this way, 
all knew that the law of benevolence — the law of 
mutual love — was intended, by way of eminence. 
The apostle James alludes to it in a similar manner, 
in a passage which contains a warning against dis- 
courteous treatment of the poor : " If ye fulfil ' the 
royal law ^ according to the scripture, thou shalt love 
thy neighbor as thyself, ye do well ; but if ye have 
respect to persons, ye commit sin, and are convicted 
of the law as transgressors. "t Our Lord had laid it 
down, in his early teachings, among the first princi- 
ples of his religion : " All things whatsoever ye 
would that men should do to you, do ye even so to 
them ; for this is the law and the prophets.":^ The 
equal love of our neighbor be connected with su- 
preme love to God, and on these two commandments 
he declared that all true religion depends. § But 
when he proceeds to expound this law respecting 
our neighbor, what does he teach as to its bearing 
and extent ? Did he imply that it was to be re- 
stricted to a particular nation, or rank, or color, or 
proximity of place ? The majority of his audiences, 
we know, did limit it by their sectional prejudices, 
and national antipathies ; but in the parable of the 
good Samaritan, he taught them that the precept 
erases these bounds, enjoins love to man as man, our 
fellow-creature and our brother, and bids, us to do 



* Galatians, vi. 2. f James, ii. 8, 9. 

\ Matthew, vii. 12. § Matthew xxii. 37-40. 



408 Christianity and Slavery. 

good to all men as we have opportunity. The Priest 
and the Levite of his day, w-o treated such an inter- 
pretation with contempt, he pictures to our view in 
all their native deformity. In addition to this " law 
of love, gave another especially to his disciples, en- 
forced by a motive drawn from his peculiar relation 
to them, " A new commandment I give unto you, that 
ye love one another ; even as I have loved you, that 
ye also love another. '' However a refined and art- 
ful criticism may treat such precepts in these days, 
they were understood by the early Christians in 
their plain sense, and interpreted according to '^ the 
simplicity that is in Christ.^' A community govern- 
ed by such laws as these, could never make a man 
serve as a slave, nor would it be possible for one of 
them to hold his Christian brother in bondage 
against his will for a single hour. 

Moreover, it may be well to observe, in this con- 
nection, that the distinction on which the temporary 
slavery of . Judea had been founded by the Mosaic 
code was entirely abolished by Christianity : we 
mean the distinction between Jews and Heathen. 
The breaking down of this " middle wall of parti- 
tion " was the great glory of the new dispensation. 
We know how deeply '' the leading men ^' of our 
Saviour's generation were offended with his teach- 
ing on this point ; how bitterly Jewish pride must 
have scowled upon him, when he said, in allusion to 
a Gentile's faith, " Many shall come from the east 
and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and 
Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven ; but the 
children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer 



Christianity and Slavery. 409 

darkness/' The preaching of this doctrine was a 
bold feature in the ministry of the apostles ; and the 
mere mention of it, by one of them, caused a crowd 
in Jerusalem to give vent to their anger by casting 
dust into the air, and by crying aloud, '' Away with 
such a fellow from the earth, for it is not fit that he 
should live.''* Yet these martyrs to truth were 
faithful to their trust and conquered by ^' the word 
of their testimony." They were true reformers. In 
founding a new community, they laid, broadly and 
plainly, the basis on which it was to rest. And as 
the temporary structure of Mosaic slavery was made 
to depend on a distinction which it was the design 
of Christianity to abolish at the very outset, we can 
easily imagine how abhorrent from the convictions 
and sentiments of the first disciples must have been 
the idea of a slave-system in the Christian church. 



SECTION VL 

THE EPISTLES OF PAUL CONFIRM THIS POSITION. 

In exact accordance with these views, is the style 
and manner of apostolic address in the Epistles of 
the New Testament. The terms used to designate 
the relation of master and servant are not those 
which imply man's ownership of man ; and from the 
terms themselves, the advocate of slavery can prove 
nothing, because the same and corresponding terms 

* Acts, xxii, 22, 



410 Christianity and Slavery. 

are used in lands where slavery does not exist. The 
exact import of the term will vary according to the 
law by which you determine the condition of a dou- 
los, or servant : just as it is now in this land ; in 
Carolina a servant means a slave, and in New Eng- 
land, it means a freeman voluntarily hired. But how 
entirely Christianity modified the relation, may be 
seen by consulting the direction which Paul gave to 
Timothy, respecting the discharge of his duty as a 
Christian teacher. It occurs in the sixth chapter 
of the first Epistle, the first and second verses. Here 
no advice is given to the young pastor as to his man- 
ner of addressing masters : it relates to servants 
only. And of servants, two classes are contemplat- 
ed ; first, those who were Christian servants of hea- 
then masters, are considered. This class is desig- 
nated by being " under the yoke.'' " Let as many 
servants as are under the yoke count their own mas- 
ters worthy of all honor, that the name of God and 
his doctrine be not blasphemed." This, as Christians, 
they were urged to do, even though they might be 
subject to the worst oppression, in agreement with 
the address of Peter to the same class ; '' for this is 
thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God 
endure grief, suffering wrongfully J' A heathen mas- 
ter, interpreting the rights of a servant by the light 
of the Roman law, would be very likely to commit 
acts of gross injustice ; but the precept enjoining a 
meek endurance of this wrong, for Christ's sake, can, 
of course, furnish no sanction to the master's con- 
tinuance of it. But now, in this epistle to Timothy, 
Paul proceeds, in the next sentence, to speak of a 



Christianity and Slavery. 411 

different class of oases ; those in which both the par- 
ties were Christians. And here it is quite remark- 
able, that, instead of directing masters to treat their 
servants kindly, he calls upon servants themselves 
to beware lest they should despise their masters ! 
His words are, "" And they that have believing mas- 
ters, let them not despise them, because they are 
brethren ; but rather do them service because they 
are faithful and beloved, partakers of the benefit.^' 
Who does not see that this exhortation arose from 
the fact, that, when both the parties had come under 
the law of Christ, Christianity had changed the re- 
lation in which they stood — had enfranchised the 
slave — had made him one of the '' brethren ^' — had 
invested him with a new dignity and new rights ; 
so that now, instead of the master being under a 
new temptation to treat the servant wrongfully, 
there was greater danger lest the servant should 
abuse his elevation, should abandon the master^s ser- 
vice, or treat him with contempt ? 

Evidently, the style, the letter, and the spirit of 
these directions to Timothy, indicate a fundamental 
change which Christianity had wrought in the rela- 
tion of these two classes of persons, where both had 
come "under the law^' of the new dispensation. 
They had now risen to that high condition described 
in the words of their common Lord, " One is your 
Master, ev^n Christ, and all ye are brethren." 
Violence, or involuntary subjection to bondage, was 
incompatible with such a change ; and now the 
apostle was chiefly anxious that the parties should 
not separate from each other, but by continuing to- 



412 Christianity and Slavery. 

gether on friendly terms, and, in the discharge of 
mutual duties, should prove to the world that the 
law of Christian love is a better cement for society 
than the law of force. No class of persons had it in 
their power to afford a brighter demonstration of 
this, than that of enfranchised servants. If they 
availed themselves of their acknowledged rights to 
forsake their old masters, the new religion would be 
dishonored ; if they remained, and yielded faithful 
service from a principle of love and of religious ob- 
ligation, Christianity would, through them, reveal 
its moral and conservative tendency, and would be 
sure to gain new victories. The appeal which was 
made therefore to Christian servants on this behalf, 
has a most important bearing, and proves alike that 
they had all " been called unto liberty,'^ and that it 
was expected that the spirit of their religion would 
dispose them not to " use their liberty for an occa- 
sion to the flesh."^ If any one deem tho case to be 
otherwise, just let him imagine how preposterous 
it would seem for any grave and reverend bishop of 
our day, or for any public body in the country, to 
send a message to the young pastors of South Caro- 
lina, urging them to teach the slaves of Christian 
planters "not to despise their masters f' Surely, 
such a message would sound strangely to the plant- 
ers themselves ; and if it were carried into effect by 
some obedient Timothy, they would s(?e " the fool- 
ishness of preaching,^' in a new point of light. 
The same idea of a change in the relations of the^e 

* Galatiaxifi, v. IS. 



Christianity and Slavery. 413 

two classes accomplished by Christianity, is implied 
and indicated by PauVs address to those who be- 
longed to the church of Ephesus."^ There he first 
addresses servants, and urges them to be exemplary 
in rendering obedience to their masters, for the sake 
of honoring the cause of Christianity — '* as the ser- 
vants of Christ, doing the will of God from the 
heart, with good will doing service to the Lord, and 
NOT TO MEN.'' Undoubtedly, this precept was in- 
tended to be as unlimited as that given by Peter (1 
Peter ii. 19,) that is, to cases wherein the servant 
was called to " endure grief, for conscience toward 
God, suffering wrongfullyJ^ However forward or 
perverse (crxohog) the master might be, however un- 
just his demands, the Christian servant was sum- 
moned to the exercise of patience and submission, in 
imitation of Christ, who, *' when he suffered, threat- 
ened not, but committed himself to Him that judgeth 
righteously.'*' Of course, Peter did not mean to 
sanction the wrong ; and so, too, in this exhortation 
of Paul to the Ephesians, he meant to urge the Chris- 
tian servant to bear wrong meekly, without giving 
a sanction to the wrong itself. Even if he were sub- 
jected to the worst of heathen masters, the apostle 
wished him to cultivate all fidelity in his service, 
not on the ground of right or justice, but because 
God would reward his submission to injustice, if it 
were exercised in order to promote the honor and 
triumphs of religion. The specific motive by which 
the Christian servant is excited to do this, is thus 

* Eph, vi 5-9. 



414 Christianity and Slavery. 

expressed : '' With good will doing service to the 
Lord, and not to men ; knowing that whatsoever 
good thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive 
of the Lord, whether he be bond or free.'' 

But when, in the next sentence, Paul makes a tran- 
sition, and addresses himself to masters who were 
Christians, his words are few, but very significant ; 
for, while he tells them to remember that tribunal 
where there is no respect of persons, he not only 
forbids their using force in the government of their 
servants, but even to refrain from threatening to do 
so. He says, '' Ye masters, do the same things unto 
them, forbearing threatening, knowing that your 
Master also is in heaven ; neither is there respect 
of persons with Him.'' In the Greek text, the word 
aneilriv^ translated threatening^ is preceded by the ar- 
ticle, and has a more specific sense. Dr. Bloomfield 
has evidently bestowed some labor on the passage, in 
investigating the force of the terms ; and says (in his 
Notes on the Greek Testament,) that the word, with 
the article signifies, the punishments awarded by the 
law." This being the case, the precept given by the 
apostle to Ephesian masters was a direct prohibition 
against their availing themselves of power conferred 
by the Roman law in the government of their ser- 
vants. It was an explicit command to them to rise 
above the Roman law in this relation, and to regu- 
late their conduct by the law of Christ, at whose 
judgment seat they must stand. But the Roman 
law being set aside, where could the Christian mas- 
ter find any authority in the law of Christ for hold- 
ing his brethren in involuntary servitude, by means 



Christianity and Slavery. 415 

of violence ? Such a pretension no man possessing 
ordinary self-respect, would venture to set up. An 
intelligent Southerner has aply said, that the slave 
system, as it is, may be defended on the ground of 
necessity, just as war is defended, in some cases, 
" because the government which it requires is no- 
thing more nor less than a prevalence of martial 
law.'^ This witness is true ; but how a state of mar- 
tial law is to be maintained by men whose religion 
forbids them, not merely to remit legal punishments, 
but even to '* forbear threatening,'^ is a problem 
which yet remains for those Christian casuists 
who claim the blessed Jesus as the patron of 
slavery. 

The passage in the epistle to the Colossians (iii. 
22-25 and iv. 1) presents no feature of the case 
different from that which has already been exhibited. 
Christian servants were exhorted to cultivate the 
domestic virtues on those same grounds which have 
been already suggested. They are bidden to rise 
superior to the legal relation, and to yield a volun- 
tary service for the sake of their heavenly Master, 
and then follow these spirit-stirring words : '^ And 
whatsoever ye do, do it heartily to the Lord, and not 
to men^ knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive 
the reward of the inheritance, for ye serve the Lord 
Christ." The spirit which glows in the address is 
abhorrent, from the idea that any man had a right- 
ful claim to hold these Christian brethren in an in- 
voluntary servitude. 

The address which follows to the masters who 
had become Christians, is, in this case also, very 



416 Christianity and Slavery. 

brief. It simply commands them to be just, and to 
remember their own accountability. " Masters, give 
unto your servants that which is just and equal, 
knowing that you also have a Master in heaven." 
There is not a free country in the world, and there 
never will be one, where this precept will not be 
appropriate and needful. 

There is, in the New Testament, another apostolic 
precept which relates to the relative duties of ser- 
vants. It is in the epistle to Titus (ii. 9, 10) ; but 
its letter and spirit are in entire accordance with 
those which we have already quoted. This class of 
persons are urged to make the relation in which they 
stood a means of advancing the Christian religion ; 
to do this by so living as to " adorn the doctrine of 
God our Saviour in all things." In that age of 
ardent Christian love, the promotion of the cause of 
Christ was deemed a counterpoise to every evil. No 
doubt, many of these servants would have gladly 
continued in subjection to Pagans, if by so doing 
they could gain new trophies for their Redeemer^ 
just as it has been known that Christians, filled 
with the missionary spirit, have actually sold them- 
selves into servitude, in order to extend the cause 
of human salvation. At a period glowing with this 
holy martyr-spirit, it was common for the friends of 
Christ to content themselves with any lot in which 
they could promote his glory, and easy for them to 
respond to the apostle^s appeal : " Art thou called, 
being a servant ? Care not for it ; but if thou 
mayest be free, use it rather : for he that is called 



Christianity and Slavery. 417 

in the Lord, being a servant, is the Lord's free- 
man."^ 

As an incidental illustration of this state of things 
which we have been contemplating, it would be dif- 
ficult to imagine anything more expressive than the 
letter of Paul to Philemon. The whole of it is in 
exact accordance with that condition of the Chris- 
tian church, which distinguished the apostolic age, 
when it consisted of scattered communities in Pagan 
lands, who had come under the law of Christ, and 
had ceased to determine their duties by the civil 
law, or to avail themselves of the 'powers which it 
conferred, to promote their own worldly benefit by 
acts of oppression. Onesimus had been the slave of 
Philemon. He had fled away from his master, and 
became a Christian, under the ministry of Paul, at 
Rome. This converted slave the apostle wished to 
retain at Rome, to minister unto his own necessities; 
but he did not wish to do it without the concurrence 
of his beloved Philemon, his " fellow-laborer." Ac- 
cording to the law of Rome, Onesimus was still the 
property of Philemon, who, as a citizen, had a legal 
claim upon all his services ; but the letter does not 
intimate the slightest probability that Philemon, the 
Christian, would or could urge that claim. So far 
from this, it is distinctly asserted that- the relation 
of the two parties had been essentially changed. 
How could that fact be more clearly expressed than 
in the following words : " For perhaps he therefore 
departed for a season, that thou shouldst receive 

* 1 Cor. viL 21, 22. 



418 Christianity and Slavery. 

him forever ; not now as a servant^ hut above a servant^ 
a hrother beloved, specially to me, but how much more 
unto thee, both in the flesh and in the Lord V"^ This 
latter phrase eflfectually guards the interpretation of 
the letter againsi that sophistry which concedes that 
Onesimus was Philemon's brother, considered as a 
Christian^ but refuses to extend the acknowledgment 
of brotherhood to civil relations and to common life. 
It shows that the apostle did not speak of brother- 
hood in some refined, ethereal, spiritual sense, which 
had no practical issues, but in a sense which would 
develop itself in 'substantial benefits to Onesimus as 
a man^ as a fellow-creature possessing a kindred 
nature, and endowed with the same moral, social, 
and physical sensibilities as was Philemon himself. 
Certainly there need be no difficulty in admitting 
the fact of so great a change, when we see that 
Paul identifies the happiness and interests of Onesi- 
mus with his own, and says to his former master : 
" If thou count me as a partner, receive him as my- 
self/' 

Only a single observation further, on this letter, 
is necessary here ; which is, that the object of Paul's 
writing it, was not to beg for the liberty of Onesi- 
mus, but to perform an act of friendship towards 
Philemon ; to awaken in his heart a sympathetic joy 
over the conversion of his lost seryant ; and to afford 
him an opportunity to do his own duty in the case, 
freely and cheerfully. The first impulse of the apos- 
tle's mind was to retain Onesimus, without sending 

* Verses 15, 16. 



Christianity and Slavery. 419 

him back at all ; but he concluded that it would be 
most satisfactory, on the whole, to place it within 
the power of his old Colossian friend to express his 
own feelings towards Onesimus, as a man and a 
Christian. Mark the expression of this sentiment : 
" Whom I would have retained with me, that in thy 
stead he might have ministered unto me, in the bonds 
of the gospel : but without thy mind would I do 
nothing, that thy benefit should not be, as it were, 
of necessity, but willingly." A similar phrase occurs 
in the Second Epistle to the Corinthians (ix. 7), 
where Paul shows them, that, although they were 
bound by the law of Christ to contribute a supply 
to the wants of their persecuted brethren, he wished 
them to do it from a principle of love, and not by 
constraint : " Every man, as he has purposed in his 
heart, so let him give ; not grudgingly or of neces- 
sity." The style of address in the letter to Philemon 
is analogous to this ; for although the law of Christ 
forbade him to hold his " beloved brother " Onesi- 
mus in a state of servitude, by force or threatening, 
yet Paul deemed it desirable that Philemon should 
show openly that he was governed by Christian prin- 
ciple in this case, and not by a sense of hard con- 
straint, or the awe of an apostolic command. 

We have now examined those precepts of the 
apostles, touching relative duties, on which the 
advocates of slavery found their argument. It ap- 
pears to us, not merely that they accord with the 
position which we have taken on the doctrine of 
Christianity, but that they cannot be clearly and 
consistently understood unless they are seen from 



420 Christianity and Blavery, 

this point of view. There is one statement of Paul, 
however, bearing on the whole subject, which ought 
not to be overlooked. It is one which shows that 
Christianity places the crime of man-stealing on the 
same ground of sinfulness as did the law of Moses. 
As we have already seen, by that law, it was not 
only a capital crime to steal a man, but also to have 
in one's possession a man who had been stolen. 
Jewish servitude never originated in man-stealing ; 
and if in any house, or village, or town, or commu- 
nity, there had been found a slave-system which 
owned such iin origin, the Mosaic law would have 
abolished it immediately when that fact had been 
established. Now, in the opening of the First Epis- 
tle to Timothy (i. 10), Paul views the crime thus 
treated of old in the same point of light, when he 
classes men-stealers with man-slayers, and perjured 
persons, and other transgressors of the divine law. 
But all. know that American slavery did originate in 
man-stealing, which even the civil law has denounced 
as piracy. Those who now hold in their possession 
the descendants of the first captives, have not, in 
the sight of God, any more right to their persons as 
property, than our fathers had to the first captives 
themselves, whom they purchased from the hands of 
the bloody slave-dealer, fresh and reeking from the 
coast of Africa. If the men of the present genera- 
tion deplore their unsought relation to this oppres- 
sive system as a misfortune, — if it be their main 
anxiety to learn in what way they may set them- 
selves right in regard to it, — the Almighty, it may 
be hoped, will be lon^-sufi'ering and forbearing 



Christianity and Slavery. 421 

toward their slowness, and will mercifully consider 
their difficulties ; but if, on the other hand, they 
ratify the sins of our predecessors, and vindicate 
their own right to possession by the assumed sanc- 
tions of religion, He whose stored vengeance hung 
over the Ammonites during four centuries, until 
" their iniquity was full," will in like manner sweep 
this whole realm of sanctimonious oppression with 
the 'besom of desolation, and attest to the universe, 
by his mighty acts, that " the throne of iniquity hath 
no fellowship " with heaven. 



SECTION VIL 

RESPONSIBILITY OP AMERICAN CHRISTIANS. 

Neither religion, philosophy, nor humanity, fur- 
nish any standing-place whereon a man may press a 
slave-holder^s claim of right by the plea of prescrip- 
tion. There is nothing in human nature which re- 
sponds to such an argument, when we bring tlie case 
closely home to ourselves. Time was, we know, 
when in Algiers there were a large number of white 
slaves, both English and Americans. Suppose, for 
a moment, that our own government had never suc- 
ceeded in rescuing our fellow-citizens from that 
foreign bondage, and that now their descendants, 
our own relatives by blood and family, had become 
the inheritance of a new race of owners. What if, 
on demanding the release of these captives, their 
lords should meet us with such Christian arguments 



422 Christianity and Slavery. 

as are found in the letters of Dr. Fuller, should 
declare to us that they had not had anything to do 
with bringing those poor people there, that they had 
found themselves in a relation of ownership to them, 
that this had now become a permanent element of 
their social organization, that slavery had been tole- 
rated by our own holy religion in the Roman em- 
pire, and that they now appealed to us, by our 
regard to order, to justice, to civil claims of prop- 
erty which time had consecrated, and especially by 
our reverence for the primitive and prudent teach- 
ings of that Christianity in which we so much 
gloried, that we should show ourselves to be the 
lovers of peace, and leave them undisturbed, in the 
enjoyment of those rights with which Divine Provi- 
dence had so long invested them? Would our 
friends in South Carolina then be found yielding 
quietly to the power of these " sacred truths,^' and 
paying homage to the intellect of the Christian 
Teacher who had, by means of them, so wonderfully 
enlightened the minds of the Algerines ? Would 
not then a single wail, wafted over the waters from 
a captive boy bearing the name of one of their own 
families, at once identify his cause with that of the 
first sufferers, and dissolve this claim to property in 
man founded on prescription? Would not every 
one of them feel the decisions of such a question at 
his pulse ? And surely, if this sense of right and 
justice in us, short-sighted beings, can arouse our 
souls to overleap a long interval of years, to dispel 
the misty illusions of time, and to look at things by 
the simple light of their own unchanging moral 



Christianity and Slavery. 423 

— ■ • 

nature, let us not harbor the thought that time can 
consecrate wrong doing, or avert its penalties, under 
the government of that Supreme Ruler, before whom 
'' a thousand years is as one day;^' who has solemnly 
declared that he will " visit the iniquities of the 
fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth 
generation ;'' and who declared, through the lips 
of the Messiah, to the people of Jerusalem, that, 
unless they abjured the sins of their fathers, they 
would fall beneath the weight of a woe which had 
for ages been treasuring up its stores of fatal judg- 
ment. 

It is with good reason, therefore that we agree in 
sentiment with Dr. Fuller when he says, '' Compared 
with slavery, all other topics which now shake and 
inflame men's passions in these United States, are 
really trifling.'*^ On this account it is that we feel 
how unspeakably weighty is the obligation which 
has, from the first, rested on the American church, 
to hold forth God's testimony touching the nature 
of the evil with unwavering fidelity. Dr. Fuller 
observes that slavery was introduced here *' in spite 
of the protests of the colonies. ''t But why was this 
note of remonstrance permitted to die away, and to 
be changed, first, into soft tones of apology for the 
system, and at last into the voice of bold and elo- 
quent defence? Had the Christian church been 
faithful to her mission, the result had been very 
different. It is a truth, however, that in relation to 
this subject, the American church has, to a great 

* Page 3. t Page 131. 



424 Christianity and Slavery. 

• — _ — _ 

extent, laid aside the character of a true and faith- 
ful witness, and has incurred censures similar to 
those which are recorded in the second chapter of 
the Book of Revelation, against the ancient church 
of Pergamos, for holding back her testimony, in 
relation to the prevailing system of idolatry. The 
message there addressed to her, contrasts her early 
state of purity with that of the first decline of her 
character. " These things saith he who hath the 
sharp sword with two edges ; I know thy works, 
and where thou dwellest, even where Satan's seat is; 
and thou holdest fast my name, and hast not denied 
my faith, even in those days wherein Antipas was 
my faithful martyr, who was slain among you where 
Satan dwelleth ; but I have a few things against 
thee, because thou hast there them that hold the 
doctrine of Balaam, who taught Balak to cast a 
stumbling-block before the children of Israel, to eat 
things sacrificed to idols, and to commit fornication. 
Eepent, or else I will come unto thee quickly, and 
will fight against them with the sword of my 
mouth." 

Now, here it is certainly interesting to observe, 
that, in order to prepare this Christian church for 
the rebuke which he was about to utter, our Lord 
shows to them that he was mindful of all the peculiar 
difficulties with which they were surrounded ; that, 
in estimating the results of a people's influence, he 
has regard to their place of residence, the state of 
society on which they operate, and the peculiar 
forms of depravity with which they may be called 
to wrestle. Pergamos was consecrated to the Ca- 



Christianity and Slavery. 425 

biri, a particular class of deities, and so drenched in 
the slough of superstition that every man and every 
child seemed to be mad upon their idols. The 
Athenians were given up to idolatry, but they loved 
it for its associations with art and genius, and in it 
they worshipped the beautiful : but the people of 
Pergamos loved it more for its lower elements, and 
were more penetrated with its essential spirit. Of 
such a place it might be truly said, " Satan's seat is 
there f for although he is called " the god of this 
world," although, as we look abroad over the na- 
tions, every region bears the insignia of his sway, 
yet, comparatively speaking, some parts seem to be 
like tributary provinces ; while others, for their 
wickedness, appear to lie near the seat and capital 
of his empire. The recognition of this fact in the 
inspired message which we have here quoted, brings 
out to view an encouraging truth, that, although our 
Lord expects much of his church on earth, there is 
not an obstacle in her path which he has not fully 
measured. 

The spirit of the accusation, then, against the 
Christians of Pergamos, may be thus stated, that, 
although the Most High would make the most mer- 
ciful allowances for the small amount of results 
accomplished by the church in that city, he would 
make none at all for their corrupting the principles 
of his religion — although he could bear with the 
small quantity of good influence which they had put 
forth, he could not bear with the deterioration of its 
quality. Small success in promulgating the gospel 
may be charitably accounted for, but to mutilate the 



426 Christianity and Slavery. 

gospel itself is a sin which he will visit with con- 
dign severity. The message itself gives evidence, 
that, after the church at Pergamos had resisted her 
outward foes with a holy and heroic spirit, she was 
yielding to the influence of those who were ready to 
accommodate their Christianity to the times, saying 
that an external conformity to the usages of idolatry 
was innocent and expedient. Perhaps some of them 
advanced, in effect, what has since been urged with 
zeal by the Papists, that the way to win the heathen 
to Christianity is not to be too rigidly separate from 
them, but to tolerate many errors for the present, 
and to turn a participation in the rites and festivals 
to a good account. The allusion to Balak shows 
that some of these Christians had already drunk of 
the '' Ammonitish wine,'^ which intoxicated the Is- 
raelites, which led them to honor Baal Peor and to 
forsake the law of God. Their conformity did not 
stop at the first step ; ^^ their table became a snare 
and a trap,^^ and their spirit of idolatry led to every 
species of evil. Their destiny, as a church, was 
involved in their fidelity to first principles. Hence 
the message sent to them from the isle of Patmos 
directs its woe against all those who pervert the 
Divine word, or bring down the standard of its 
principles to the level of their own convenience. 
That is a great sin, because it destroys the remedy 
for sin. A single Christian, or a church, may be 
able to make but little headway against a prevailing 
custom, against popular opinion, against a badly 
organized state of society ; but every church, every 
man, and every woman, may hold up a sound testi- 



Christianity and Slavery. 427 

inony, may state the truth of God correctly, and 
leave the consequence to Him, whether it be to let 
it work gently like leaven, or to be as the fire and 
the hammer which breaks the rock of flint. 

This remark has respect to the proper treatment 
of all sins which are called ^' organic,^' — those which 
are deeply interwoven with the elements of the so- 
cial structure, as, for instance, idolatry or slavery. 
Time was when almost universally, throughout this 
country, men owned slavery to be a sin ; that is. a 
thing which is in itself a transgression of the law of 
righteousness. Scarcely anywhere could a man be 
heard to say, that either its commencement or its 
continuance was sanctioned by reason or scripture. 
Amidst the agitation of recent years, however, many 
leading men in the land have deemed the avowal of 
such a sentiment to be contrary to a safe policy, and 
have proclaimed slavery to be, not an entailed mis- 
fortune, but a righteous relation sanctioned by the 
Christian scriptures. Now, in this juncture, Divine 
Providence undoubtedly called the Christian church 
in the slave states to a great duty ; to proclaim, on 
the one hand, that she was averse to all fanatical 
violence, wrath, and strife ; and, on the other, that 
to her. Heaven had committed a pure and free Chris- 
tianity, which teaches that ^' God has made of one 
blood all nations to dwell upon the face of the earth, ^' 
— that the men of Europe or America have no more 
right of ownership in the flesh and blood of the chil- 
dren of Africa, than the Africans have in theirs ; 
and that, not power, or wealth, or color, can give to 
man a right of property in man. Tl^is testimony 



428 Christianity and Slavery. 

she should have held forth with a calm martyr-spirit, 
seeking nought by violence, but to overcome by the 
blood of the Lamb and the word of his testimony. 
But, alas ! to a great extent, her ministry and mem- 
bers have succumbed to the laws, the politics, the 
statesmanship, and the spirit of this world, — have 
altered the testimony of Christ's word, and have 
publicly declared that his religion sanctions a sys- 
tem of slavery. If the apostle John, who was in- 
spired of old to warn the declining churches of Asia, 
could descend from heaven with a special message 
to this portion of the American church, its '' burden '^ 
and its tone would probably agree with those of this 
letter to Pergamos, saying. " I know where thou 
dwellest, even in the midst of a system which Satan 
has devised to grind your brethren with hard bond- 
age. I know how little thou canst do to change the 
laws and manners of this people, and break the bands 
of oppression ; but I have a few things against thee, 
because thou hast there them that hold the doctrine 
of the devil, saying that this system is from me, and 
that it bears the sanction of your Lord and Master. 
Repent, or else I will come unto thee quickly, and 
will fight against thee with the sword of my mouth.'' 
Of such a spirit, we believe, would be the message 
sent to a portion of our American church, if the 
oracle of God should illuminate another Patmos. 
The man who, in the view of the civil law, is regard- 
ed as a slaveholder, but who, in heart, abhors the 
system, testifies against it as unrighteous, and does 
what he can to bring it to an end, is guiltless, com- 
pared with him, either at the South or the Northt 



Christianity and Slavery. 429 

who never owned a slave, but who says that Chris 
tianity sanctions slavery. The one is the unwilling 
victim of the system*; the other is the voluntary ad- 
vocate of a principle, which, if true, fixes on Chris- 
tianity all the guilt of the system itself. The one 
exerts an influence which tends to destroy the sys- 
tem ; the other, an influence which tends to perpet- 
uate it. The one utters a testimony, however fee- 
ble, in harmony with the voice of the Bible ; the 
other muflles God's trumpet, so that it can pour forth 
no note of warning, but only gentle sounds, which 
soothe rather than alarm the conscience of the op- 
pressor. 

As we have said before, the truths involved in this 
message proclaimed by the voice of the inspiration, 
apply to the church's testimony respecting all or- 
ganic sins whatsoever, — to all wrong customs which 
have received the support of society. It will not do 
for a Christian, or an association of Christians, to 
say, We cannot alter them, and therefore yield to 
them. In many things we all may have been sub- 
jected to a false system, whose influence we have in- 
haled like a subtle atmosphere ; but at any rate we 
can testify against it ; we can hold forth the law of 
truth and righteousness ; we can make known the 
word of God, " uncorrupt and pure f and thus, bat- 
tling against one and another sin, may keep it from 
concealing its native vileness by enrolling itself in 
the authority of religion, and proudly wearing the 
sanctions of Christ, like stars in its crown of 
triumph. 

END. 



1 




1^??"^^^*^^!:' ^^^^ 



v.^ 






S™^°'^ CONGRESS 




014 085 425 6 



*if > 



m 



«^ 9| 









